


CoSL 23: A House Divided

by Dracophile



Series: Grimm-The Casebook of Sloane Larson [23]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Blood, Break Up, F/M, Family Drama, Magic, Mentions of Sexual Assault, Mentor/Protégé, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:14:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23605123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracophile/pseuds/Dracophile
Summary: Contains rewrites of Double Date and HeartbreakerJuliette and Nick are on the outs after her secret is revealed and Nick is trying to figure out what to do and who to tell as cases keep cropping up.Worse than that though is another shadow from Sloane's past has arrived. Oh yes...Dierdre Galperin, her mentor who taught her the fine arts of killing wesen without remorse, has arrived in Portland. And she is determined to return Sloane to her days as a traveling hunter or kill trying.
Relationships: Nick Burkhardt/Juliette Silverton, Rosalee Calvert/Monroe
Series: Grimm-The Casebook of Sloane Larson [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1061588
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	CoSL 23: A House Divided

\----------------------------------

**Double Date**

\----------------------------------

Sloane squinted at the label in her hands, standing on the ladder leading up along the shelves. “Uh…Epazote?”

“Right, I know that one,” Rosalee said, writing that down. Rosalee had realized there was a stock of goods hidden on top of the shelves that had a lot of bottles on it she’d never even seen. Sloane had offered to help since she was a little taller and could reach easier, so they’d been spending the hour looking through them all. “Does it look okay?”

“I’m not sure what the difference between okay and not okay is…” Sloane said honestly. She opened it and took a sniff. “It smells spicy?”

“It’s supposed to.”

“The label looks like it’s 20 years old. And there’s no date,” she clarified, looking over the dusty jar with a wrinkled nose.

“Mmm…better safe than sorry then. Bring it down, I’ll refresh it.” Sloane nodded and nimbly slid down the ladder. “I wish I could do that without banging my chin on every rung,” Rosalee laughed.

“Just takes practice,” Sloane smiled, setting the bottle in the box. “That was the last one up there and that fills this up.”

“Great! Thanks again. I’ll take it down in a sec. Then how about lunch?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Alright. And I’ll treat you.”

“You don’t have to—”

“You used your morning off to help me find expired goods while Monroe is finishing that job in Lake Oswego. I owe you,” Rosalee said firmly.

Sloane smiled and held up her hands. “Okay, okay, I will be treated under penalty of the glare. Do what you gotta do and I’ll pick up a bit up here.”

She smiled and grabbed the box, heading down the stairs to the storage area to clean the bottles and set them up to dry. Sloane meanwhile put the notebook they were using under the front counter and grabbed the broom to sweep up a bit. A lot of dust had come down when she was grabbing the bottles.

As she was sweeping she heard the bell above the door and sighed at not having turned the sign when she had the chance. But she didn’t want to send them away and give the shop a bad name. “Hi, welcome to Exotic Spice and Tea. I don’t work here but the owner will be right…back up…” She had turned to face who entered and felt the breath stop in her lungs and the broom slip from her grasp.

The woman who walked in was in her fifties, but she had aged like a fine wine into a robust and terrifying vintage. She had dark hair with a streak of white at her forelock, bulled back from her face in a low ponytail. A strong jaw and nose similar to Sloane’s. And her eyes, which were looking at her directly, were the color of the light through amber glass—bright and hard to miss as they stared into your soul.

“Sloane…” she said coolly. Her voice was deep, sultry and biting like the wind off the ocean in winter. “I didn’t realize I would find you playing shop girl.”

Sloane swallowed through the lump in her throat. “Dierdre…It’s…good to see you.”

“Oh, I rather doubt that,” she said, walking forward sedately. It but there was a predatory pace to it. She was wearing dark jeans, a black top and a charcoal gray wool coat over black boots. Sloane took a deep breath and settled her nerves. This was a shock, but Dierdre could smell fear she was sure and showing it would not do her any favors.

“Well, it’s been a few years and you look well. …What are you doing here?” She picked up the broom and set it against a shelf, keeping it in reach.

Dierdre looked around a bit. “You know, I had to ask around to a few places before I found this one. I was starting to hope someone was just playing a stupid joke on me, saying you were setting up roots. In… _Portland_?” She said the name with a slight sneer.

That feeling came back to her stomach, but she stood tall. “And where did you hear that?”

She arched her brown and then from her coat plucked a letter. “Collin Donahue sent a Dead Letter to me. Apparently he’d been tracking you and found out some rather worrying things before dying against those Wendigos. He said something about finding out you’d being seen at an herb shop fairly often, but of course neglected to actually get the name.”

Sloane cursed a blue streak in her head that once again Collin had tried to screw her over even after death. “Well, what am I accused of?”

“Accused? Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” she smiled. Sloane hated that smile, the smile she used in public to make people think she wasn’t capable of any real harm. “But there are some worrying allegations in this letter. I mentioned setting up roots. And really, I could perhaps forgive that in time, but in _Portland_? It’s a city I suppose, but all the places we went you choose here…”

“…It’s a nice city. And I’ve found a lot of work here. Good hunts.” _Keep it simple. Don’t give too much information. Don’t give away anything she could use to hurt the others._

“Hmmm…there’s another bit though…” She pretended to read the letter again. “What was it…oh yes, befriending wesen.” She cracked a smile but that only made Sloane tense more. “But that can’t be, right? I mean, after everything I taught you, the years I spent teaching you and taking care of you, you wouldn’t throw that away to go soft. Right?”

“…Of course not,” Sloane said. “I don’t know what he was on. Collin was always doing something stupid, let’s be honest. He probably wanted to get back at me one last time.”

Dierdre nodded slowly, considering. “True…but then, why are you here? In this shop?”

“Just…made a contact here, doing a favor while she gets some things ready for me. I’m just about through with what I need to do in this city.”

She looked at her and took the last few steps forward. “Sloane…I know it’s been a long time since we were together. But did you forget my warning about lying to me?”

Sloane’s eyes widened and she reacted too late to block the slap that came to her face, hard enough to knock her into the post near the stairs. Rosalee heard the thump and glanced up from the sink downstairs in confusion. But she didn’t hear anything else, so she moved to finish the bottles. Sloane meanwhile pushed herself up, trying to clear the ringing in her ears. She felt something wet tricking down her face and reached up to feel a cut above her brow from where she’d hit the post. _Shit…_

“Now, let me ask again. Why are you here?” Dierdre said, not trying to lighten her tone. “I already know how long you’ve been here. Collin included that and I doubt he’d include that if he didn’t double check somehow.”

She balled up her fists and stood, glaring at her. Why was it her past kept coming back to try and disrupt her life? Why did Dierdre think she had the right, any more than Collin did? The anger boiled over, and she crossed her arms. “I’m not under your wing anymore. What I do is none of your business.”

Dierdre paused and looked at her with mild confusion. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Whatever you did for me or to me is in the past. I’m a grown woman and you made it pretty clear over the years you don’t want anything to do with me. So, what does it matter why I’m living here or what I’m doing?”

“…Something is wrong here,” Dierdre said, looking her up and down. “You usually so more respect than this.”

“Respect? Ha!” Sloane said, thumbing the small trailer of blood away. “That was fear. But I’m not scared of you now.”

“Really? Because I thought you knew better,” she said coldly.

“And you should know better than to start shit in a public place with a security camera.” She pointed up to the camera they had gotten Rosalee after the Wesenrein incident. Dierdre didn’t look but narrowed her eyes. “Now get out before the owner sees and calls the police. You want to talk, we do it as adults. Contact me through the library or just leave and forget about me like before. Our lives obviously don’t matter to each other.”

“…Well…you grew a spine at last. But I still see the shake in it,” she said snidely.

“I said get out!” Sloane said louder.

“Sloane?” Rosalee called, hearing the yelling. She was starting to come back upstairs.

“Stay downstairs!” Sloane called, glancing at the stairway for just a moment. When she turned back, Dierdre was already heading out the door. She glanced around, making sure she didn’t fake her out before sighing and leaning against the post

“Sloane, what is going on?” Rosalee called up, getting worried. She decided to not listen and got up the stairs. The moment she got up and saw Sloane she gasped and rushed over. “Oh my God! Sloane, what happened?” She tilted her head up, looking at the cut anxiously.

“…Don’t suppose you’d believe I tripped?” she asked, smiling humorlessly. Her old go to when sparring with Dierdre got out of hand. Rosalee gave her a confused look and she sighed. “We need to call everyone…Another huge problem just arrived.”

\-----------------

Nick sighed as he checked his phone again. It’d been two days since Juliette had walked out the door and despite trying to contact her she didn’t call him back. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. He’d called in, wanting to stay at home in case she came back, but she never did. He worried what she was doing for clothes, a place to sleep, all if it. And he cursed himself for not trying to be more supportive—but also he cursed her for not understanding that they head to cure her. It wasn’t about hating her; it was about the fact that she wasn’t meant to be a Hexenbiest and it was his fault she was going through this now! If he could fix it, then there was nothing to worry about.

That’s what he told himself anyway.

When his phone did ring he was hopeful till he realized it was Rosalee. He was tempted to ignore it but didn’t want to risk missing an emergency. Besides, maybe he could ask about Rosalee. “Hey, Rosalee…what’s up?”

“Hey. Are you busy?”

“Uh, no, I took a personal day but…not busy.”

“Okay, well, I need you to come to the shop.”

“What’s wrong?” Nick said, his danger alert cutting through his funk.

“I’m not sure. Something happened to Sloane and she wants to talk to all of us. Something or someone hurt her.”

Nick frowned more and looked at himself in the mirror. He hadn’t really shaved or showered in two days. He was sure they’d know something was wrong if he showed up like that, so he needed to clean up. “I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay, thanks,” she said, hanging up.

Nick took a quick shower—very much just trying to scrub the obvious heartache off of him—and shaved before heading to the shop. Hank and Wu were already there, as was Monroe. “Hey, sorry I’m the last one here…Sloane, what’ happened?” Nick asked, seeing the bandaged around her temple.

“She won’t me till we were all here,” Rosalee sighed.

“Well, we are, so…?”

“Not yet,” Sloane sighed.

“What? Why not—” He heard the bell ring again and looked up to see Renard stepping in. Nick tensed and had to resist grabbing him and demanding why he didn’t tell him about Juliette but stopped himself. Now wasn’t the time.

“I got here as soon as I could,” Renard said. “You said this was an emergency?”

Rosalee looked at Sloane who nodded. “Yeah…Remember when I told you Collin was in town?”

“Oh God, he’s back from the dead?” Wu asked.

“No, it’s worse than that,” she sighed. She looked hesitant still, maybe trying to find the words, before resigning herself. “Dierdre Galperin is in Portland.”

Everyone froze in surprise a moment. “Wait, your teacher Dierdre? That Dierdre?” Monroe asked. “The one you said would kill any wesen she came across?”

“Yeah. And when I say kill, I mean she will actively hunt any she sees with a cold precision. Collin was a menace, but he wasn’t nearly as skilled or calm about it and usually ended up having to drop it unless he could get them alone. I have seen Dierdre kill someone in a crowded room and walk away without drawing attention.”

“…That’s terrifying,” Wu said.

“Did she do that to you?” Hank asked with a frown, pointing to her bandage.

“…I tried to lie to her. This is how she reacted. How she usually reacted since I was supposed to lie to anyone else but her.”

“Sloane, that’s—” Nick started.

“Wrong. I know. I’m done making excuses. I’ve had to do a lot of thinking on how Dierdre taught me and other things. I used to just say that’s how she is, and it was to make me strong, but…”

“Well, glad you realized it’s not something to justify,” Renard said honestly. “What should we do though?”

“She’s on tape,” Sloane said, nodding to the cameras. “If we can get a clear picture, I vote putting out a wanted poster of her. I don’t recommend catching her because we might end up with a dead guard like the manticore incident, but it’ll restrict her movements and she’ll hopefully move on.”

“So, no confronting her?” Wu asked.

“Absolutely not,” she said, her tone serious. “She has no qualms killing people either if they’re in her way. She will gut you all and walk away.”

They all looked at one another, a bit worried. “Okay…”

“You know, I’ve wondered, why is Dierdre your mentor?” Monroe asked. “I mean, I feel like your grandmother would not have gotten along with her.”

“She didn’t,” Sloane sighed. “Anytime she’d come back it was awkward all around. Oma was always super tense, even when she was trying to be nice and loving to her.”

They blinked, looking at each other. ““Nice and loving”?” Rosalee asked.

“Yeah. I mean, I can’t blame Oma looking back and knowing what I know now. It must’ve been hard dealing with Dierdre and how different she turned out from her…”

“Okay, I’m confused,” Monroe finally said. “You knew Dierdre as a child? And your grandmother loved her but didn’t agree with her?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s kind of like you and your parents in some ways, though you actually get along now…” She looked at them all and frowned. “What?”

“…Sloane, who is Dierdre to you?” Renard asked, though he looked like he’d figured it out. Nick did too, but he looked sickened thinking about it.

“…Ooooh…I never actually said, did I…?” she said, realizing. She rubbed the back of her head. “Um…Dierdre is my mother.”

It was quiet a gain before the room exploded. “What?!”

She jumped. “What? Did you guys really not know?”

“Sloane, you—she—you always talked about her like she was someone that just took you in!” Monroe said. “You would say “Dierdre” most of the time, and other stories you said, “my mother”! Her last name is Galperin, you said!”

“…She doesn’t like me calling her that. She said to call her Dierdre, but when I have to talk about…who gave birth to me, it’s “my mother”,” she said, shrugging. It was obvious to her but also sounded like a sore subject. “And my grandmother raised me as “Larson”, but her maiden name was Galperin. One of the longer running Grimm lines—I got second or third cousins I’m told but I think our branch is the one that hasn’t died out in the Grimm traits. Dierdre chose to keep that name instead of Larson. She never offered it to me.”

“…All that stuff she did to you…and she was your mother,” Nick said quietly.

“Yeah…I’ve had to kind of come to terms with how messed up it is. How messed up she is,” Sloane sighed, tracing the bandage. “Seeing you and your mom…all of you, honestly, with your families…”

Rosalee frowned and hugged her close. “You deserve a family like us…we are your family.”

“Careful, or Rosalee might be your new mom,” Monroe smiled.

“Don’t think I’m not tempted…”

Sloane managed a smile and hugged her back. “Thanks…”

“Any reason she’s the way she is or is she just Satan?” Wu asked.

“I think that might be too good of a name for her,” Rosalee said venomously. Monroe patted her shoulder and nodded.

“Don’t know…Oma told me she had to deal with a lot a s child too, but I couldn’t find any references to what. Her diary said that she left with another Grimm when she didn’t like Oma’s methods at like 17. Like a decade later she comes back, heavily pregnant with me. Wouldn’t tell her anything about my father. Had me, stuck around for six months, then left. That’s all I really knew about her for years before reading Oma’s diary and…she sounds like a normal kid. That was…weird to read.” She was obviously still confused by it.

“Sometimes how people end up the way they do remains a mystery,” Renard sighed, though he looked troubled as well.

Sloane nodded then shrugged. “Look, I just want to make sure we get her out of town. I don’t want to put any of you in danger, and preferably no one else either.”

“Hey, we handled Collin and the others, we can handle this,” Hank said.

“There is no handling Dierdre. It would be like handling a live grenade,” Sloane said bluntly. Then she sighed. “I need to go home, make sure she hasn’t figured out where that is.”

“I’ll come with you,” Nick said, standing.

“We all will,” Rosalee said. “Strength in numbers.”

“Yeah. Though a gun may be good too, just saying,” Wu added. “I mean, I know she’s your mom but if she’s that dangerous…”

“Open fire,” Sloane said dryly. “But she’s not going down without a fight, so we do need to be careful.”

“I agree with the sentiment, but I do need to get back to work…though I’d like to talk to you two,” Renard said, looking at Monroe and Rosalee.

“Us? Why?” Monroe asked.

“It’s a…personal reason.”

Rosalee frowned, hesitating, but Sloane patted her arm. “Help him out. I got three big strong officers to escort me home.”

She smiled and hugged her before letting her go. Then she gestured for Renard to follow her to the back with Monroe.

“You sure you’re okay?” Nick asked.

“Just a bump and a cut,” Sloane said. “Admittedly she hits harder than I remember, but it’s been a decade..” She headed for the door and they shared a look that they all knew meant they would be guarding Sloane until this was all over.

Rosalee watched them go but then turned to Renard. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

Renard sighed and suddenly looked much more vulnerable. “I need your help…with a problem.”

“A problem? What kind of problem?” Monroe asked hesitantly.

“You helped my mother figure out what Adalind had done to Nick and how to fix it,” he reminded them.

“Yeah. Good times…”

“There was a book that Adalind used to cast a spell and my mother used to research it.”

Rosalee nodded. “Yes, we still have it.”

He sighed, looking relieved. “Okay, good. I was hoping you did.”

“What's the problem?” Monroe pressed. “We have another Grimm to deal with, I want to know if this is like going to try and kill us too.”

He hesitated but then nodded. “No, I don’t think so. Not you anyway. I'm not exactly sure, but it appears to be related to what my mother did to save my life...Some sort of residual effect from my visit to the other side.”

Their eyebrows shot up and they glanced at one another. “You mean, as in when you were dead?”

“Yeah. I keep reliving the moment that I was shot over and over. And I wake up...And I have blood all over me, and it's as though I've just been shot again and I'm bleeding to death,” he sighed, looking haunted.

Rosalee was listening and frowning in worry and sympathy. “That does not sound good.”

“And you're hoping the answer to this is in the book?” Monroe asked.

“I am,” he nodded.

Rosalee sighed and walked over to her desk, opening a drawer. “Your mother shut the book. So, I'm hoping you can open it, because we can't.” She pulled it out and handed it to him at the prep table.

He looked it over and there was no obvious lock on it. Just bourbon colored wood with a metal scroll work hammered into it. He tried to open it, resorting to two hands when it refused to give and grunted in frustration. Sighing, he took it in one hand again and looked at Rosalee. “How'd she open it?”

“With her blood,” Monroe said. “Big knife right in the middle of her...” He gestured stabbing at her hand grimacing.

“She's your mother. Maybe your blood will work,” Rosalee said.

He sighed, shaking his head. “No, if that kind of lock has been cast upon it, then only Hexenbiest blood can open it…”

“Don't suppose she's coming back to town anytime soon?” she asked hopefully.

“Not that I know of. I’m not always included on her plans nowadays.”

“And I'm guessing you don't want to bring Adalind in for help on this,” Monroe said.

He frowned, looking uncomfortable. Adalind hadn’t tried to contact him since that day in his car and while that was only a couple of days he wasn’t sure it was long enough for either of them to be civil. “No, not really.”

“Well, what about Angela?”

“…No, she’s currently in talks with a company to make more of her beauty products and grow into a franchise,” he sighed. “She’s in California to negotiate and I don’t know when she’ll back. I’ll give her a call just in case.”

“Well, any other local Hexenbiests in your area?” Monroe joked.

Renard frowned again. Juliette came to mind, though he wasn’t sure about her. There was also Henrietta, possibly the better option. “…I have options. I’ll take it with me, see what I can do.”

“Alright. If you need us to help with a treatment, let us know,” Rosalee said.

He smiled a little. “Thanks. Oh, and email me that footage so I can get our visitor’s face. I want to get her out of town as soon as possible. If I can get it on the evening news it would help.”

“What’ll you say?”

“That’s she’s wanted in connection with an assault of an officer. It’s true enough.”

Rosalee nodded, waving as he left. She and Monroe then started cleaning up and getting ready to close shop. She accessed the footage and sent it to Renard like he asked, though it took a while. She wasn’t used to the software yet. Just as they were almost done, Rosalee’s phone rang and she picked it up when she saw the name. “Nick?”

“Hey, Rosalee. We got a call for a case.”

“What? Now?” She put it on speaker quickly. “You’re going to a case now?”

“Yeah, it sounds pretty bad though.”

“Like Grimm killed someone bad?” Monroe asked worriedly.

“No, like someone melted bad.”

“That’s bad…”

“I’m going with them,” Sloane said. “It sounds wesen already.”

“Shouldn’t you rest?” she asked.

“I’m fine, really. It’s just a little bump and scrape.”

“What about Dierdre?” Monroe asked.

“We got to my house and it’s secure, I’m making sure it’s double secure before we leave..”

“Yeah, like Kevin McAllister…” Hank said.

“…Home Alone?”

“Yes! Thank God you knew that one…”

“I’m not that out of touch, it came out when I was like 5! Anyway, do the same at the shop. She didn’t act like she knew who you two were, so I think you’re safe for now. I can’t let her just stop my life. I’ll call you when I’m home later, okay?”

“Alright…be safe. All of you.”

“You too.”

The phone call ended and Rosalee sighed. Monroe put an arm around her. “You okay?”

“…I’m angry. I wish I’d come up when that woman was here, and I could’ve torn into her.”

“…With words or teeth?”

“Both,” she huffed.

Monroe smiled and gave her a squeeze. “Hey, look at it this way: Sloane used to be scared of her. Now she’s standing up to her. That’s gotta be a good thing.”

Rosalee smiled. “True. Well, we’re already closing up and your done with the clock, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I worried but I’m still hungry. Want to have lunch?”

“Oh, lunch with a beautiful woman, how can I refuse?” he said with a smile. She rolled her eyes but smiled back and kissed him before they went out the door after locking up.

\--------------------------

The scene was about as gruesome as it sounded. A man was lying in the street with half his face now a bubbly, gooey mass of melted flesh. He’d been dragged to some bushes nearby but there was a trail left.

“Came over from Rosalee’s soon as I got the call. Maintenance main found the body this morning,” Wu said.

“Any witnesses?” Hank asked.

“Not yet.”

Nick looked down in disgust, fairly sure he saw bone in some places. “It looks like an acid attack…He must’ve been hit there in the street though before he was dragged over this way.”

Hank kneeled down, going through his jacket and pulling out a wallet. A key card also fell out and he picked it up. “Got a key card for the Benson Hotel,” He said, handing it up to Sloane’s gloved fingers.

“So, he’s either a visitor or having an affair. Or both,” Sloane said.

“Kind of a jaded view…” Nick said.

“How many affair’s have we come across in general in all our cases?” she asked wittily.

They all had to nod, knowing she was right in that regard. When Hank flipped the wallet open, he found the man’s license. “Cody Carson. Augusta Main.”

“So, one right, we’ll see about the other. Bit far from home though,” Sloane said. “What was he doing in Portland?”

“Got credit cards here, but no cash,” Hank said, looking through it.

“Robbery gone bad?” Wu suggested.

“They usually don’t put the wallet back after stealing the money,” Nick said.

“Unless you wanted the police to think it wasn’t a robbery gone bad,” he said.

They looked at him, unsure if that made sense, but he seemed pretty proud of it. After looking around some more and finding little to no further clues or marks, they headed back to the station. Hank called the hotel to find out when Carson checked in, while the others tried to find any other information on him. Renard was in by then and they met in his office to go over the case.

“Mr. Carson checked into the Benson Hotel three days ago,” Hank said, handing him a photo of the victim as they found him. “Manager says he wasn’t due to check out for another week. Clothes and suitcase still in his room.”

“He was here on Business,” Nick continued. “Works for Mason freight. We found a cell phone charger, but no cell phone in his possession, in his car or in his room.”

Renard nodded. “He probably left it wherever he was last night.”

“We got the number from the hotel, we’re trying to run it down,” Hank said.

“Do we know how the victim got these burns?” Renard asked, eyeing them. He paused and looked towards the window where Sloane was standing, looking out. “Sloane?”

“Hm? Oh, sorry,” she sighed, walking back over. “Um, according to the ME, the vic choked to death on viscous matter, which then ate it’s way through his lungs and moved on to other organs. The substance is consistent with a parasitic enzyme like necrotizing fasciitis, a skin-eating bacterium found in contaminated water.”

“…Okay, you just recited that from memory?” Hank asked, reading over the report in his hand.

“Yeah. I also know that certain animals produce that enzyme that eat through body tissue. Arachnids, earthworms, snails, slugs, insects and some plants like the Venus fly trap,” she said, smiling slightly.

Nick smiled and gave a little clap, Hank joining in. Renard rolled his eyes but looked somewhat amused beneath his serious exterior. “Sounds wesen to me.”

“That or we’re looking for a big-ass snail,” Hank said dryly.

“Acid is a popular self-defense mechanism. Nick and I fought some Enxame Vermelho a little over a year ago.”

“Yeah. But they’re usually in large close-knit groups, I don’t think it’s one of them. They wouldn’t need to steal money and Carson is from out of town, no reason to kill him if they were trying to take over.”

“Do we know what the victim was doing in that neighborhood?” Renard asked.

“Not yet. Car was parked on the street, no restaurants or bars nearby,” Nick said.

“Well, maybe he had a friend in the area?”

“That’s what we’re thinking,” Hank said.

“My money is on an affair still,” Sloane said.

There was a knock on the door and Renard called out to come in. Wu stepped through quickly. “Just got an approximate location on the vic’s cell. It’s in a condo near where the body was found.”

“Next stop then,” Nick sighed. Renard nodded, motioning for them to go.

Outside the station, Sloane paused, looking around.

“You okay?” Nick asked.

“Yeah, just…keep expecting to see her. I feel like her eyes are on me…”

He frowned and looked around. “…She might be, but I don’t see anyone that stands out.”

“She’s good at not standing out,” Sloane sighs. “I’m quiet but I swear she can actually like…make people not realize she’s there.”

He set a hand on her shoulder and she looked at him. “You sure you don’t want to take some time off? You were supposed to be off today anyway.”

“…No. I’m serious when I say I don’t want her disrupting my life. That’s what she wants I’m sure. Plus, if we have a dangerous wesen out there, we gotta do something about it.”

Nick winced. Juliette had come to mind when she said that, and that made a bit of guilt bubble in his chest. Both in thinking she was “dangerous”, and in not telling Sloane. It wasn’t that he thought she would hurt Juliette; it was more that she worried what might happen if they confronted one another. Sloane could be…forceful, and with Juliette’s new powers that could end badly.

“Nick? You okay?”

He jumped at looked at her and felt another wave of guilt at the worried like she had. Here she was, scared another Grimm from her past was going to hurt her or her friends, and he’d zoned out into his own problems. “Yeah, sorry. Just thinking about how to deal with this…”

She sighed and nodded but turned to get into the car so they could continue their investigation.

Wu met them at the condos, bringing up the tracker while they got the property manager’s permission and help to go track it.

When they found the right residence, the manager said that the man who owns it lived in New York and was currently sub-letting it through an on-line service. The person there now was a woman who she said was tall, attractive, with long brown hair.

“She’s very nice…God, I hope nothing happened to her in there,” she said, hesitating to open the door. Sighing, she knocked and called loudly. “Hello? It’s the manager. I’m here with the police and we have to come in.” She unlocked the door and pushed it open. It was a nice, modern place and nothing looked wrong or like a horrific murder took place there. Nick and Sloane followed Wu into the bedroom as he followed the phone’s signal while Hank looked a bit more closely at the living room with the manager.

“Gotta be around here somewhere…” Wu said.

“This place looks pretty empty though,” Nick said, going into the bathroom. There were no personal care items left out, just a soap pump that went with the house.

“Yeah, nothing here,” Wu said, kneeling to look under the bed. “Not even a sock.”

“Nothing in the closet either,” Sloane said. “I’m pretty sure no one actually lives here.”

“Yeah, if she was here, she’s gone now,” Nick agreed, moving into the second bedroom.

Wu meanwhile was following the signal, looking at a map on his tablet that showed the origin as a green blip. He moved until he should right on top of it and knelt again to look under a chair with a cover that went down to the ground. He clicked his tongue in triumph when he saw the black rectangle on the floor. “Got it!” The others all came in to see and he held it up with a loose glove protecting it from his fingerprints.

“Well. What do we think Cody was doing with a pretty woman in a bedroom sometime last night?” Hank smirked.

“Called it,” she said, bumping his fist.

Wu looked around. “Well, no obvious signs of foul play…”

“Lets get CSU in here, check for semen and dust for prints,” Nick said. Wu nodded and headed out, dropping the phone into an evidence back as he did.

Hank looked around and sighed. “Well whoever they are, they sure cleaned up pretty good…Do we think the woman was with him? Did she kill him?”

“Well if you’re going to kill him, why kill him outside? Where anyone can see you?” Nick asked.

“They did still hide the body, but not far. I think that might mean it was spur of the moment thing, not planned,” Sloane said.

“Possible. Or maybe he ran, and they took care of them outside when they meant to do it inside.”

“Not sure, acid and blood would be hell on this rug…”

“And on that note, are we even sure it is the woman? Maybe she had help,” Hank said.

“Well either way, we better go find this pretty woman.”

“The kind I like to meet.” He looked at Sloane dubiously and she held up her hands. “Slipped out. Hanging with Wu too much.”

“I heard that!” Wu called, making them smile a little as they headed for the front. Sloane scanned the outside again before walking down the steps. She paused when she thought she saw a flash of gray go around the corner ahead and moved a little faster.

“Sloane?” Nick called.

She didn’t listen, coming around the corner, only to see a man in a gray coat waiting for the bus. She let out a breath. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder. Without thinking, she grabbed it and twisted, turning to grab them by the throat. Before she threw them down though she saw a terrified man staring at her.

“I-I just wanted directions!” he said.

She quickly let go, horrified. “Oh, God, I am so sorry-” He was already running away, and she grimaced.

“Sloane!” Nick rushed over with Hank and Wu. “What was that?”

“I thought I saw…something, and um…he tapped me on the shoulder and I…I just freaked out.”

Nick frowned. “Why? …Did you think it was…”

“…Yeah,” she said quietly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s okay,” Hank said, though he looked worried. “Let’s head back to the station.”

“Right,” she sighed, following them back to the car. She still had the feeling of being watched. If she was, Deirdre was probably laughing or whatever her equivalent was at her scaring innocent tourists.

Once at the station, Hank was able to find out that the owner hadn’t been back to Portland in a year, but he’d leased it out to someone named Alexis Toynbee from Omaha, Nebraska. Except Alexis was 60 years old and still in Omaha. So that meant whoever they were looking for had gone through the trouble to get a fake name, fake card, and renting a place for apparently one night.

“So, good news, bad news,” Wu said, walking over.

“What’s the bad news?” Sloane asked.

“Ah, that kind of girl. Okay…Rosalee sent over the footage from this morning. I sent it to you two, just in case,” he pointed at Nick and Hank. “But, we can’t get a usable pic of her.”

“Seriously?” Nick asked, frowning.

“I tried, but the angle just doesn’t work. She picked the right spot to make it hard. You might get Rosalee to move the camera and maybe pick up another couple to get other angles in the future…”

“I’ll suggest it,” she sighed.

“What’s the good news?” Hank asked.

“Well, on the murder investigation, we got a hit on one of the fingerprints from the condo, but it’s not a woman,” Wu said, coming over and setting down his laptop. He brought up the search to show a Caucasian man with dark brown hair’s mugshot. “Thought it might be just random till I looked up the profile. Linus Balouzian, from Louisville, Kentucky. Has a record as a conman, and a car registered in his name.”

“We got a last known?” Nick asked.

“In a way. Condo gets cleaned after every rental. It was cleaned this last Friday, which puts Mr. Belouzian in the condo sometime this week.”

“So, Mr. Belouzian and our victim were in a condo rented by an attractive woman with a fake identity,” Hank summed up. “Sound like a con to anyone else?”

“That or porn,” Sloane said. Nick coughed a bit on the sip he took of his soda and all the boys blushed, but she smiled. “What? I’m not that out of the loop.”

“Well, if it was, I don’t think Mr. Carson was ready to get—” Wu started.

“Okay, before we have to talk to HR, let’s just agree it’s a con,” Nick said quickly. “I think likely Linus might be working with this mystery woman. And Cody got caught up in whatever game they were playing between the two of them. Don’t,” he warned Sloane, who opened her mouth with that smile again. She stuck out her tongue at him.

“My guess is, you come all this way to Portland, you’re going to play this gag more than once,” Hank said.

Wu was nodding. “I checked with robbery, and they’ve been hearing about businessmen, single guys from out of town, being trick-rolled.”

“Carson wasn’t single,” Sloane said.

“No but he traveled a lot and usually presented himself as single, according to his coworkers. So, if he wasn’t wearing the ring, he might’ve been a target,” Nick said.

Hank nodded. “Put an APB on Belouzian’s car.” Wu nodded and headed off again.

“If Belouzian is the guy who attacked our victim, he could be wesen,” Nick said.

“Don’t rule out the woman. Could be both,” Sloane said.

“I think the main question is what kind,” Hank said.

“And if they’re going to pull this off again, where?” Nick sighed.

Hank thought for a moment before looking at them. “If they used Toynbee’s identity once, they might use it again somewhere else.”

“I’m not sure that would be smart, but if they didn’t anticipate having to change their set up so soon, maybe,” Sloane nodded.

“Let’s run the names again, see if we can come up with any other fraudulent charges,” Nick said, moving over to his computer.

“And then research tonight. I don’t like acid, so I have a subsection for my books, I’ll drop by and get them.”

“Just don’t forget you set those traps,” Hank said.

“I won’t.”

They started going back through the information mentioned, but Nick did pause to bring up the video. Indeed, it was at just the right angle that he could only see her in profile—in part thanks to the popped collar of her jacket. He frowned deeply when he saw her strike Sloane though. _This is her mother…God, how did she end up with a mother like this…_

\---------------

Gallin was sitting in a café at the college she was going to, going over some notes and sipping coffee to get her through the day. Going back to get a full medical degree wasn’t easy, but she was nothing if not determined. When her phone rang, she sighed and set her drink down to answer. “Cynthia Gallin.”

“Hello, Cynthia. I’m not sure you remember me. It’s Dierdre Galperin.”

Cynthia nearly dropped the phone and found it hard to breathe. “O-Oh, yes, I remember…um, how did you get this number?”

“From the directory.” Cynthia cursed and told herself she would delete her number the first chance she had. “You’re the Librarian in Portland, aren’t you?”

“Um…I was, but I actually left. I decided I needed a change in venue. They haven’t gotten a replacement yet—and I mean, it’s been almost a year really.”

“I see…” she said. Cynthia could imagine the narrowed eyes of disapproval just from the tone.

“Yeah, I just felt I needed to go do get a bit more education, do a bit more. It’s going really well—” she said, the nervous talking bubbling up.

“I didn’t ask for your life’s story.” The words were cold, no longer polite, and she shut up immediately. “What I want from you is information on Sloane Larson.”

“O-oh…um, I don’t really have any information.”

“I’ve already met her, dear. I came because something’s wrong with her. Something about what happened with Collin back in September and her injuries…”

“What? Is she okay? I thought she healed fine—” Gallin sucked in a breath when her mind caught up with her mouth.

“That’s what I thought,” she said, amused. “Now then, why don’t you tell me what you know?”

“Y-You said something was wrong with her.”

“There is. Do you know about that too?” She was quiet, feeling antsy. “You know, I remember you now. You were William’s daughter, apprenticed under Robert at the Library in Missouri. Heard about what happened to your father and brother, nasty business.”

She swallowed. “Yes…it was.”

“Well, they went with honor. I heard you had a niece though…how old is she now? Do you think she’s inherited? Maybe she needs a mentor…”

“You stay away from her,” Gallin said, her voice hard but there was still a slight quiver.

“My, so many people grew spines when I wasn’t looking,” she laughed. “Then again, I remember you standing up to me as a child about how I trained Sloane. That didn’t end well for you either. As I said, I won’t even consider advice from maggots who can’t do anything against me. I hope you pick your fights better at least. Do you think Margaret can fight?”

Gallin closed her eyes, feeling bile rise in her throat. “…What do you want to know?”

\---------------

They did what they could at the station before clocking out. Sloane headed home first. She didn’t see any attempts to break in from the front thing piece of wood she’d set at the top between the door and the jam was still in one piece, with her mark on it. She pulled it out and put it in her pocket before undoing the fishing line she’d tied around the knob and held it firm Opening the door slowly, she opened wider when nothing went off and stepped in. On a chair she had a paintball gun set up—something she borrowed from Bud back when they were first training Trubel and hadn’t returned yet. She had it set up to fire if the wire was slackened too much. Hooking it around the knob again, she closed the door and moved around the set up. Non-lethal, since she didn’t really want to make a scene at the front door, but now without Nick or Hank she had the chance to set up something a bit more intensive.

After collecting the right books, Sloane grabbed one of her axes and did a quick set up that it would fall when opened. She set up another at her back door—non-lethal but it used a sound grenade she’d bought online and hadn’t gotten to use. Loud enough to alert the neighbors. That one she was able to set up and leave through the back to get to her car. The boys had thought she might be a little paranoid setting up the first, but she refused to let Dierdre get the drop on her or sneak in.

Getting back to the trailer, she paused when she saw Nick was pacing outside on the phone. He said something as she pulled up but hanged up as she got out of the car. “Hey, took you a bit.”

“Yeah, I wanted to make sure no one had been by…you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said. Sloane frowned and he sighed. “I’m…Juliette and I are going through some stuff. She’s giving me the silent treatment.”

“Oh,” Sloane said, surprised. But she pushed her own feelings of interest away. Nick looked miserable and it made her heart hurt. “Wow…man, none of us get a break, huh?” she said, smiling awkwardly.

He smiled a little bitterly but nodded. “Yeah…I’m hoping I can get through to her.”

“About what?”

“It’s…personal,” he said. “I don’t know if she wants others to know or…If I’m ready to talk about it either…”

“Okay,” Sloane said, reaching up to rub over his arm with the books cradled in the other. “I’m here if you need me. Or…her, if I can help, of course.”

“…Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind. Let her know if she talks to me again.”

“Hey, I’m sure she will. She loves you.” Her hand lingered a moment, thinking _I do too_ before she pulled it back. “C’mon. Let’s figure out what we’re dealing with.

He nodded, following her inside when she opened the door. Hank looked up and smiled. “Hey! Think I got something. It looks like some kind of…Grimm medical book. Date on it is 1917.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” Sloane said, walking over to look at the book. “I usually only see medical sketches at the Libraries.” She set her books down and took a seat across from Hank while Nick sat next to him. They could see a drawing of a wesen that looked gooey—a smooth, featureless face with slightly wrinkled or venerated skin rippling down from the back of its head, down its neck and beyond.

“Well, I think this is what we're looking for. It's a Huntha Lami Muuaji. They're some kind of a wormy Wesen. Listen: “Much like the flatworm Platyhelminthes, the epidermis of the Huntha Lami Muuaji secrets enzymes that feed on its host's skin."”

“That sounds like our guy,” Nick said, perking up in interest.

“I’ve never met one, but I think I have something on them too,” Sloane said, pulling a reference card from her pocket where she wrote down “acidic/flesh melting wesen” for her rolodex.

“This is kind of interesting...” Hank went on, drawing her attention. “"Huntha Lami Muuaji always travel in pairs, one female, one male. But no female has ever been captured or killed. The males are extremely dangerous. Decapitation upon contact is the best course to take. Unlike other Wesen, the Huntha Lami Muuaji appear to have only one Wesen state, visible to all, but whoever has seen it has died. Even Grimms have been especially cautious in dealing with this Wesen and the data recorded by them is incomplete."”

“So, we got a pair...Linus and the woman he's working with. No ID on the woman,” Nick said, lining up the dots.

“But she's the one picking the guys up.”

“And only one fingerprint in the room...That's the guy's. So where did the woman go?”

“I think we better run this by Monroe and Rosalee,” Hank said.

“Let's bring the book. Sloane, you got one?”

“Yeah, hold on…9,” she said, taking one book from the pile and starting to flip through.

“Bring it too, we’ll go over it all with them.” He sighed when his phone rang, grabbing it out. “Hey, it's Wu.” He accepted, putting him on speaker. “Wu, what do you got?”

“Got a hit on Toynbee's name in the system. Apparently, her credit card was used to book an apartment three blocks away from the condo,” Wu said.

“Then the suspect's working the name neighborhood,” Nick said.

“Looks like.”

“All right, get a list of all bars and restaurants that are within walking distance.”

“Already did. There's one that caters to businessmen. It's called Olive or Twist. Get it?” he chuckled.

“Yes, and they should be ashamed,” Sloane said.

Nick rolled his eyes. “We're headed to the Spice Shop. Let's regroup later.”

“Okay.”

They hanged up and Sloane grabbed the book. Nick dialed Monroe as they headed out to their cars to coordinate meeting at the shop. They’d meet them there. As she drove her phone rang but it was a number she didn’t recognize. It quieted but when she was stopped at a light it rang again. Thinking it might be Kelly she used her Bluetooth to answer. “Kelly?”

“No. Who’s Kelly?” Dierdre asked.

Sloane froze a second, then breathed deeply. “How did you get this number?”

“It’s all in who you ask and how. You remember,” she said. Sloane gripped the steering wheel tighter, knowing that meant she found someone to threaten. “Got a bit more information on you too. And some of your friends…Oh! Kelly! That would be Nicholas’ mother,” she said, mockingly remembering. “How is he? You work with him now, don’t you?”

Sloane almost felt like puking. “…How did you find out about him?”

“Well, like you said, I contacted the library. But the local librarian left town. She did have her number saved still though.”

 _Cynthia…_ “You better not have hurt her.”

“Now how would I do that when I’m still in Portland?” she asked snidely.

“You’d find a way, and I’m sure you threatened to do something awful. What else do you know?”

“Well…I know that cute little shop you were in today is owned by a fuchsbau. She’s very well reviewed. But I’m surprised she stays such late hours there…”

Sloane’s eyes widened and she threw the phone down and floored the gas, running the red and making a few cars honk at her. Nick and Hank gasped when she did it.

“What the hell?!”

“Follow her,” Nick said, worry getting to him. Hank threw it into drive and followed. They turned on the lights because she wasn’t slowing down and at least this way people might get out of the way. “What got into her?”

“I don’t know but she is pretty good at driving fast!”

She skidded into the parking lot, just barely putting the car in park before rushing out and practically breaking the door off its hinges as she rushed in.

Rosalee and Monroe jumped and looked up at her. “Sloane?” Rosalee asked. Sloane stared, panting, looking around frantically. “Sloane, what’s wrong?”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost…” Monroe said, worried as well.

“She’s not here…”

“What?”

Sloane sighed and leaned against the door frame. Nick and Hank pulled up then and rushed out. “Sloane, what was that? You ran like four red lights!” Nick aid.

“…Dierdre…” She straightened and moved back out to the parking lot, looking around wildly. She must’ve known Monroe and Rosalee were here. She must’ve seen them.

“Sloane?” Nick asked again, worried.

“Dierdre called me. She knows about Rosalee and that she’s a fuchsbau. And she said she saw them come in late.”

“What? How?” Hank asked.

“Gallin. She called her and…I don’t know, must’ve threatened her or someone to get her to talk. She would do that.”

Rosalee frowned worriedly and walked over, despite Monroe’s attempt to stop her, putting her arm over Sloane’s shoulders. “Let’s get inside then.”

She hesitated but finally sighed and walked with her back inside. Nick looked around as well but headed in with hank and closed and locked the door behind them. Rosalee got Sloane to sit and take some deep breaths.

“What should we do?” Monroe asked.

“I’m not sure…Dierdre’s just toying with me right now…” Sloane said, rubbing over the unbandaged side of her head. “I tried standing up to her and that just made her push harder to knock me down.”

“Then keep standing up,” Nick said. She looked up at him. “You’ve to us behind you. She can’t knock us all down.”

She was surprised a moment. “…I’m scared she’ll knock any of you down.”

“Don’t be,” Rosalee said. “We know what she looks like now. If she comes anywhere near us we’ll either fight or run.”

“Yeah, don’t worry so much. I’m a lot more alert about the whole danger might lurk anywhere thing since the, y’know…” Monroe said. Rosalee elbowed him slightly and he tried to smile jokingly.

“What he means is, we’ve faced tougher situations than this. We’ll get through it.”

She didn’t look so sure but nodded. “Okay…”

“Now, you came here about a wesen case?” Monroe said.

“Yeah. Our victim’s skin got…well, melted,” Nick said.

“Oh, see, melting skin. Way worse than a psycho Grimm.”

Sloane tried to smile. “I left my book in the car, let me go get it…” She rose, heading out. When she got there, she saw a note left on her windshield. She knew what it must be, but she still hesitated before taking it.

_You better remember what you are. I’ll get them eventually, and it will be your fault. You want to save them, leave Portland and get back to work. Never contact them again or I’ll end it permanently. I’ll give you five days before the hunt is on. If you think I’m not serious, check by the dumpster._

_-D_

Sloane read the note in the dim streetlight and steeled her nerves before walking over to the dumpster. Her stomach turned when she saw a severed head sitting on top—no one she knew. But the man was older, and the look of terror on his face was still frozen. It was fresh and Dierdre had literally pinned a note to his head that read _Mausehertz._ Like a specimen on display in a macabre museum.

Dierdre was toying with her. She only did that when she really wanted to hurt her prey. It was a psychological war first, then a painful execution—she’d seen it plenty of times before. Whatever would hurt her she would do. She gripped the note tightly before putting it in her pocket, then took out a pair of gloves she still had on hand. Grabbing the head, she murmured an apology before putting it in a box nearby. Then she rushed it over to her car and hid it inside. She leaned against the car, wanting to hit something. She was vibrating with rage, the feeling rolling in her stomach. Taking a moment to breathe, she tried her best to push it all down. She grabbed the book and went back to the door. Breathing again, she opened the door and headed inside.

Nick already had opened his book to the right page, and they were looking it over. “So that's a Huntha Lami Muuaji,” Monroe was saying. “Okay, so what's the plan? How you gonna catch these varmints?”

“Well, we think the woman's gonna be at Olive or Twist tonight,” Nick said.

“Olive or Twist, I love that place! Prices'll scare the Dickens out of you, though,” he laughed.

“So, what, somebody goes to the bar and tries to get picked up by a pretty woman?” Rosalee asked.

“Exactly,” Nick said.

She smiled. “So, which one of you good-looking guys is gonna be the bait?” Monroe chuckled again, still looking over the diagrams in the book.

Sloane felt a stab of pain go through her thinking about Nick doing such a thing. But then it dug in harder thinking about the note. _By them, she means everyone…I’d never see Hank or Wu…Renard…Bud…Monroe and Rosalee…Nick…it would all be gone. But they’d be safe…_

“We'd like to use someone who knows what they're up against,” Nick was saying. Both of them turned to look at Monroe. Rosalee followed their gaze and her smile fell. Monroe looked up and his fell as well, looking uncertain. “If Rosalee's okay with it,” he added.

She looked a bit uncertain but swallowed and nodded slowly. “Well, I mean, as long as it doesn't get out of hand…”

“We'll be backing him up the whole way,” Hank promised. Monroe still looked like he wasn’t sure what was going on and Sloane felt a smile come to her face.

_I’m going to miss them…No, don’t think like that. Gotta figure out how to stop Dierdre. Somehow…_

\-------------------------------

Sloane managed to quickly bury the severed head at the edge of Linnton park not too far from the shop before meeting with the others outside the bar. In her head she apologized again that she couldn’t risk being found with his head and finding his body just yet. Assuming Dierdre didn’t take it to be disposed of already.

Monroe managed to attract Alexis. He apparently had some sort of charm or animal magnetism (Sloane may have said that jokingly, but he liked it which made it worse). She took Monroe home and started her seduction before going into the bathroom. From there they were waiting for Linus to show up. Wu had gotten into the apartment just before the two arrived and made sure there was no one waiting. Now he was with them in their car watching the window from below. They could just make out Monroe pacing, agitated.

“Still don’t see Linus,” Wu said.

“He’s gotta be on his way,” Nick sighed. He looked over at Sloane, who was reading through her book. “Anything else useful?”

“Not really,” she sighed. “It’s about the same as yours. Though my ancestor said he overheard an argument between the male and female…”

“Well, couples argue sometimes,” Hank said. Nick flinched a little but didn’t say anything.

“No, but it’s weird. Listen. “1882, Bohemia. As I waited in the attic to get the drop on the Huntha Lami Muuaji, I heard the man come in berating his partner. A shopkeeper had apparently made a pass at her in the alley behind they store, and she slapped and burned his face. I say argument, but I only ever heard the male speak, calling the female “Paulina”. I thought perhaps the female didn’t wish to speak, yet he seemed to be responding to the words of another person I couldn’t hear. Getting another vantage point, I was able to see that the man was indeed alone, undressing, but looking in the mirror. I wondered then if perhaps they communicate through the mind. Mister Freud in Vienna I believe would find this quite fascinating, but I only want to stop these two. I wasn’t able to ascertain the female’s whereabouts however—in the end I had to settle for shooting the male with my crossbow, dropping down to decapitate him, and running. I can only hope alone she is of little harm to others.””

“Huh…that’s weird…Maybe they have like a mind link?” Wu said.

“Mind link?”

“Yeah, like they can read each other’s minds. Maybe it’s part of being in pairs.”

Sloane pursed her libs but nodded. “Not a bad theory. Maybe we can ask them.” She looked up and frowned when she saw Monroe was standing with his back to the window and flailing and turning back a lot though. “Uh, guys?”

“Oh crap, Linus is in there,” Nick said, rushing out.

“How’d he do that?” Hank said, following with the others.

They rushed up the stairs and Nick kicked the door in like it was made of wooden blocks, clear off the frame. Monroe just barely stopped short, having woged to get past Linus, and woged back.

“It's him! He's in the bedroom!”

“Where's the woman?” Nick asked.

“In the bathroom.”

Nick nodded and rushed through in time to see Linus open the balcony door and jump down to the roof of a building below before trying to run. He cursed but looked back at Hank. “Don't let the woman get out. I'm going after Linus.”

“I’m with you,” Sloane said. He nodded and jumped down to the garden roof below and she followed. While he climbed down though she jumped and started running.

“Hey! What happened to with me…” He let go and then rushed after her.

Sloane was running through the streets, passing people by and even pushing them out of the way as she ran. However, when she got to the end of the street and looked around, there was no sign of Linus. She panted, turning around and around to try and catch sight of his gray jacket.

“Loose something?” Sloane gasped and turned her head to see Dierdre across the street, looking at her condescendingly. “Tick tock, Sloane. Better make your choice. Or I’ll make it for you.”

A bus passed by and when it cleared, she was gone. Sloane blinked, looking around, and wondered if she’d imagined her.

“Sloane?” She gasped and turned to see Nick. He was panting, looking at her in confusion. “What’s up?”

“I…I don’t see him anymore! Or hear him!” she said in frustration.

“I don’t either,” he agreed. He frowned and then looked over near a planter in an alcove between buildings a short ways back. He walked over and picked up a jacket. “This is his…”

“Why would he drop a jacket?” Sloane said, walking over.

“Throw us off?” He paused when he felt something weighty in the pocket and reached in. He pulled out a set of gold and emerald earrings and blinked. “What in…why are these here?”

“I don’t know…” Sloane glanced behind her but there was no sign of Dierdre either.

They checked with a couple of people, but no one had seen Linus come by. They were finally forced to head back to the apartment. Everyone looked up at them hopefully, but he sighed and shook his head. “We lost him,” Nick announced, walking in. “Where is she?”

“Well, she's not here,” Hank said, looking lost as well.

“I'm telling you, she went into the bathroom and never came out,” Monroe said, agitated.

“Well, there's a door on the other side of the bathroom. No clothes in the closet, nothing. It's the same setup as the condo. She must've left when Linus came in.”

 **“** How'd she get past us?” Wu said.

“I don't know,” he sighed.

“Was she wearing these?” Nick asked, pulling the earrings from the jacket.

Monroe looked surprised but took one, dangling it in the light. “Yeah…Where did you get these?”

“They were in Linus’ jacket,” Sloane said.

“When we chased him, he left it on the ground. I found them in the pocket.”

“How the hell did her earrings get into his pocket?” Wu asked, confused.

“What if she didn't go anywhere?” Nick said, the wheels in his head turning.

“Well, she had to go somewhere because she ain't here,” Hank pointed out.

“The book says the female is never found,” he reminded them. “What if they're the same person?”

“You're saying, what if this Wesen, this Huntha Lami Muuaji, whatever, is both? Like, male and female?” Hank asked. “They can woge from one to the other?”

“I'm just guessing, but that would explain why the woman is never caught. And the Grimms always kill the male when he woges. That would explain why they never find the female.”

“Oh, that hurts just thinking about it,” Hank groaned, rubbing his temple.

“That explains why she's got no record; only Linus does,” Wu said.

Sloane was nodding as well, looking at Nick in admiration. “I think you might be right. That’s why my ancestor only heard the man arguing—they share a body! Their woged state must be a sort of…cocoon-like state, where they go between male and female. Like when caterpillars become butterflies, they actually turn into liquified state before putting themselves back together. There’s other wesen that have fluid genders too, and animals.”

“Okay, so how do we find him? Her. Them.” Monroe looked confused as well.

“I think the bigger question is how do stop them?” Sloane said. She felt the note burning in her pocket, but she didn’t say anything.

\-----------

“So, the suspects you're after are one and the same person?” Rosalee asked, making some tea at the shop. “This Wesen sounds like the epitome of an identity crisis. I can't even imagine how it must feel to be both a man and a woman.

“Got to be complicated,” Wu agreed.

“Yeah, and the problem is, after the woge, it looks like he or she can return to him or her. And we need the he.”

“Linus is the one with the criminal record,” Hank clarified.

“Yeah, and the one who left a fingerprint. Alexis or Stacy or whatever her name is might not get convicted,” Sloane said.

“So, you want to lock him into Linus?” Monroe asked.

“And prevent him from turning into Stacy,” Wu nodded.

“Wait a minute... Forcing someone to be one sex sounds like one of those ethically ambiguous morally-gray-area- type situations. I'm just saying, the feminist inside me is cringing,” he said, looking a bit uncomfortable.

“Cringe away 'cause we don't have another choice. They're murderers,” Nick said.

“Honestly I’d normally agree with Monroe because that’s some next level torture. But I don’t think it’s necessarily that,” Sloane said, pondering. “I mean, I don’t know if it’s all of them or just the one from my ancestor’s book, but he said the two halves _argued_ with each other. By name, looking in a mirror, as though having a conversation. I’m not a psychologist, but I don’t think that’s how multiple personalities work. Usually they aren’t aware of one another.”

“So…you think it’s two people sharing the same body?” Hank asked.

“I think its possible. Two separate minds and personalities, one male, one female, sharing the same body. Able to transform between the two.”

“I’m not sure that’s entirely better,” Monroe said. “I mean, would we then be killing one of them? Or just trapping them in one body?”

She sighed. “I don’t think we have enough time to debate all the ethics…Like Nick said, Linus is the only suspect we have so at this point, we gotta bring him in or risk him getting away to keep doing this and possibly killing more people. Feminism doesn’t excuse her hand in this.” Monroe sighed as well but nodded.

Rosalee sipped her tea, ruminating on the problem. “It sounds like the woge is neutral ground, hormonally speaking, so I think that's your moment of opportunity. But you're gonna have to use something to keep him from turning into Stacy mid-arrest.”

“Well, can you even do that?” Nick asked.

“I've never tried anything like this before, but maybe something like hormone therapy might work. Maybe giving them a dose of testosterone, like how bodybuilders use steroids. It's the same idea.”

Monroe chuckled. “You're gonna need a lot. This was a pretty good-looking woman.” Rosalee and Sloane both shot him a look and he swallowed and closed his mouth.

“Yeah, but how much is too much?” Hank asked, trying to stay on subject.

“I don't know. Better to be on the safe side, especially if you want to keep him as Linus.”

“How do we inject him with the hormones?” Nick asked.

She shook her head. “I can make a pretty potent batch of hormones, but you're gonna have to figure out how to get it into him. You can't get too close to this Wesen, remember. He's got flesh-eating slime.”

Nick frowned then smiled. “Darts.”

“Doppelarmbrust!” Monroe said.

Hank frowned and Sloane and Nick said, “Crossbow,” at the same time.

“Perfect,” Hank smiled. Wu just looked lost and concerned but nodded slowly.

\-----------------------

Adalind paced in her room at the hotel. It was lavish and comfortable, but it was also as much dungeon as the one Viktor had thrown her into before. He hadn’t liked her going out on her own and was confining her more. She’d managed to keep seeing Sean and Henrietta under wraps, but she couldn’t sneak out again. She’d also put a spell on Diana’s picture so that it appeared to be a picture of her mother to anyone else, in an enchanted silver frame. Viktor didn’t even notice so she was thankful for that. He barely noticed the black eye after her fight with Juliette, which thanks to the magic salve was completely healed now. But just because he wasn’t terribly observant didn’t mean the men around him were. Rispolli especially enjoyed trying to keep her on a tight leash now.

And the worse part was there was no escaping this time. If she tried, she’d be hunted down and, well, being burnt at the stake could kill her like it did most things. If by some miracle they didn’t kill her, she’d be a prisoner. Likely barely seeing Diana, if at all. They’d have their own way of raising her after all…

_“Nearly every problem you have faced is one of your own making.”_

She growled as she heard Henrietta’s words in her head again. Going to the bathroom, she tried to smooth her face down. Anger caused wrinkles, as her mother used to say. But the anger still boiled under her skin. It wasn’t her fault things didn’t go her way! If Nick had just handed over the key, Hank wouldn’t have been in danger. If he hadn’t taken her powers, she wouldn’t have had to go begging for help to Frau Pech, or Stephania! Wouldn’t have had to barter her child! Or escape! If they hadn’t taken Diana, she wouldn’t have had to go crawling to Viktor and done as he asked in taking Nick’s powers! None of this was _her_ fault! She was trying to fix everything wrong with her life and they kept messing it up!

She jumped when the mirror cracked. She’d been projecting too much. The broken mirror made her think of her mother, dying by being thrown through a mirror by Nick’s mother. That made her think about what Henrietta said about her and she sobered. While she didn’t necessarily _want_ to believe her mother would do such a thing as purposefully ruin a spell and put another person and danger to be petty…it seemed possible. She also didn’t want to believe she’d let them die and hide the body, but Catharine Schade was cutthroat to say the least. She remembered times her mother and Elizabeth met, and sometimes Henrietta, that things seemed tense. She often wondered why they were all friends. Now she knew it was something other than friendship that really tied them to her mother, but they couldn’t sever that tie. Not till she was dead.

… _Did mother have any friends?_ _Real friends? Did anyone even cry at her funeral?_

She shook her head. What did that matter? _She_ had no friends. That’s why she was looking out for herself.

_“Every problem you face is one of your own making.”_

“Shut up!” she growled. Sighing, she went back to the bedroom and considered just watching some TV before bed to try and take her mind off things.

“I adamantly oppose this!”

She paused at the exclamation from the hall. That was Viktor’s voice, and he sounded angry. Normally that would precede someone getting their ass handed to them by guards, but that’s not what she heard. Going to the door, she listened closer.

“Viktor,” a man sighed.

“May I remind you, nobody understands the complexity of the situation like I do.”

“And no one has exercised as much patience as I have,” the man replied testily.

“I need more time,” he said. Adalind had never heard him with a pleading tone and she opened the door and peeked out. She froze when she saw a man in an expensive dove-gray suit in the hall. He was older, with a white hair and beard. A little shorter than Viktor, with a build like a man enjoying his retirement after years of labor. Softer and rounder but not without strength. But she knew him immediately—he’d met her in Vienna once before she and Victor left, and that visit had been nerve-wracking on its own.

“And you will have plenty, Viktor. In Vienna.” Viktor looked annoyed but turned and stalked back into the room with the guards close behind. The door close and the man turned but paused when he caught sight of her. He smiled as though he met an old friend. “Adalind, so nice to see you again.”

“Your Majesty,” she said, bowing. This was Frederick Renard. Sean’s father. The _King_ of the house of Kronenberg.

“You're looking lovely as ever,” he quipped.

She smiled, trying not show how uncomfortable she was. Frederick had a thing for blondes, she heard. “Is Viktor going somewhere?”

“Yes,” he sighed, glancing at the door.

“Am I leaving too?” She was slightly hopeful, slightly scared. Being away from Juliette might be safest, but she needed to figure out how to get Diana!

“No, you're staying here,” he said.

“Alone?” It was a little too hopeful, but that would give her a lot more freedom. Both in how she lived and how she tried to get information.

He chuckled. “No, dear. I would never leave you alone. You are far too important. Another member of the family will be joining you soon.”

That was disappointing but she tried to smile. “May I ask who?”

“He’ll be here soon. Viktor has his skills, but he prefers too much cloak and dagger, shadow dealings and such. It’s taking too long. I think perhaps more…direct approaches may work best.”

“…You know, your Majesty, I would be happy to make some direct approaches,” she said. “I mean…I appreciate you consider me important, but I’d like to be of more help in finding my daughter. Viktor has been…resistant to the idea.”

He looked at her with consideration and nodded. “Indeed…Just so you know, I never really approved of him throwing you in the dungeon like that. On the other hand, you did betray the family by leaving Vienna with the Resistance.”

She flushed and tried to look ashamed. “I was so confused…With the baby coming I just…”

“The world is confused,” he said, reaching up and patting her arm. “People like the illusion of being in control of their lives. But ultimately, what they crave is protection, safety. And none of that happens without singular vision of the future.” Adalind swallowed a bit. She could feel a presence—a cold feeling down her spine despite his warm smile. “Your child has a very important part to play in that future. She has royal blood. And we will get her back where she belongs.”

\---------------------------

“A little more,” Rosalee said, watching Monroe pipe part of the mixture into another.

He looked at her, unsure. “What, are you trying to turn this guy into a Tyrannosaurus?”

“A little more won't hurt,” Hank said.

Nick came in then, holding the double shot crossbow and a small case under his arm. “Got it.”

“All right, we're almost ready here,” Monroe said, piping in a little more of the hormone.

“What’s in the case?” Wu asked.

“Our delivery system.” He opened them, smiling at the array of arrows. All of which were hollow, with holes in the heads to help administer whatever was placed inside. “Which should we use: the 4-inch, 6-, 8-...Or the jumbo?” He pulled out the biggest with a smile.

“Let's not take any chances. Jumbo,” Hank said.

“All right, it's ready. Let's fill it up,” Rosalee said, taking the arrows from him.

Nick smiled then looked around. He spotted Sloane over by the window and frowned, heading over. “Hey…you okay?”

“…You think you could handle this? Without me?” she asked hesitantly.

He was surprised but nodded slowly. “Yeah…you still worried she’s out there?”

“I know she is. I just don’t know when exactly she’ll make a move. You might be safe but…I don’t want anything happening to Monroe and Rosalee.”

He nodded, understanding right away. “Stay with them. We’ll let you know how it goes.”

She smiled a bit, but he could tell she was growing more and more worried and paranoid. Maybe she’d tried to seem stronger but after years with Dierdre, it wasn’t going to just un-effect her overnight. He felt a bit stupid thinking it would, that she was fine because she didn’t back down that first time. There was so much going on and it seemed like just when they got a break two more actively terrifying situations happened. And no matter what he wished; he couldn’t fix all of them himself. He might need help with his own problems too. “…Sloane—”

“Hey, APB picked up Linus' car outside Los Portales bar on Thurman,” Hank called. “They've got it under surveillance.”

“Uh, let's pull the surveillance once we get there. I don't want to have to explain this to anyone else,” Wu said.

Nick sighed but nodded to her again before going and checking the crossbow. “I hope this works.”

“Yeah, you and me both,” Hank said, taking the arrows.

“I’m going to stick around,” Sloane said.

“What, don’t want to go acid worm hunting?” Wu asked.

“…You know that made it sound cooler, but no. I’m still paranoid about Dierdre.” She looked at Monroe and Rosalee. “I’d like to go home with you and, if you don’t mind, spend the night.”

They were surprised but nodded. “Yeah, okay. No problem,” Monroe said.

“If you’re sure,” Rosalee said.

“I’m sure I don’t trust her…” Sloane muttered. The note said five days, but she wasn’t sure Dierdre would stick to that. “But yes. I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

“Thanks for your help,” Nick said. They headed for the door, waving.

“Good luck, fellas,” Monroe said. He exhaled deeply when they left, hoping it turned out alright.

Rosalee turned to him then, a dubious look on her face. “So... how pretty was she?”

Monroe’s eyes widened and he looked like a cornered rat for a second. He looked at Sloane.

“Uh, I’m going to go check the perimeter,” she said, backing away and heading out the back door. That was Monroe’s corner, not hers. She walked out the door and started making her way around to check that no one suspicious was loitering around the shop.

Meanwhile, Nick and the others headed to the bar in question. Wu saw Stacy leaving with a man and managed to stop him by saying he fit the description of a robber. He radioed Nick what direction she was heading and once she was crossing on a concrete path through a small park between a synagogue with a beautiful stained-glass window and another building.

Stacy stopped when she heard something metallic drop to the ground near her feet. “Hey, you dropped something,” Nick called. She turned and looked down, seeing a pair of gold and emerald earrings she’d written off as lost when they were running from the police. And when one of the Detectives that chased them stepped out with his hands behind his back she tensed. “Hey, Stacy. I thought you might want those back.”

She tried to smile and took a step. “Those aren't mine. I don't know what you're talking about.” She turned to keep walking.

“Oh, then they must belong to Linus?” She paused and looked back. “I'd like to talk to him.”

“I don't know anyone named Linus,” she laughed, feeling a bit worried.

“We think you do,” Hank said, stepping out as well. “You're not going anywhere.”

“Game's over, Stacy,” Nick said.

“You got nothing on me,” she said, defiant.

“We know what you are.”

“He's a Grimm. And you're a Huntha Lami Muuaji. I hope I pronounced that right,” Hank said with a smile.

She was surprised a moment but then glared. “Well, if you know what I am, then you know what I can do.” She took off her jacket, dressed only in a slinky red dress and heels, before her form rippled. Instead of a beautiful woman she was now a large, ripple skinned creature dripping in slime. They’re hollowed, drooping eye-sockets with black eyes glared and the holes for nostrils flared as they started moving towards them.

Nick quickly brought the cross bow out and fired both shots, hitting right in the chest. The flesh was squishy, like the slime it was covered in, and though they paused a moment they didn’t go down. Growling, they grabbed the arrows and pulled them out, tossing them aside. “So, you think some little darts are gonna stop me?”

Nick swallowed and Hank pulled out and readied his gun. “Yeah, that was the plan…”

They growled and started forward again but then shuddered and grunted. Groaning, they dropped to their knees and looked sick. “What is this? What have you done?” They groaned again and then de-woged into Linus once more. He stayed on his knees, panting and groaning as if in pain.

“It's Linus,” Hank gasped.

“It worked!” Wu laughed, running up.

“Let's get him cuffed.” Nick walked over, preparing the handcuffs.

“Is this the same person?”

“Wearing the same dress,” Hank pointed out as he moved to get him on the ground.

Wu just realized he was indeed wearing a sexy red dress and nodded. “True…”

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and—”

Linus reared back and moved away, kicking off his heels. He was still obviously a little pained, but his wits were coming back. “What the hell did you do to us!?”

“Linus, calm down,” Nick said.

“No, you brought _me_ out, how?!”

“You’re the one we needed. Stacy doesn’t have a record.”

He panted, looking at them wildly. “It was just a few cons! We separated a bunch of men from their money. No one got hurt!”

“Cody Carson is _dead,_ ” Hank said.

“It was self-defense! He was supposed to leave but he stayed and then he grabbed Stacy! He threatened her, threatened to call the police! He grabbed her, he was hurting her and that just—it made me angry! I had to defend her, defend us! The man had a wife and kids and still wanted Stacy, and then he was hurting her!”

“That’s all very noble, but it’s still murder,” Nick said.

Linus glared and then took a breath like he was trying to woge again. Except nothing happened. He blinked and tried again, still nothing. “Stacy…? Stacy, where…” A look of horror came on his face. “Where is she? What did you do to her?! I can’t find her!”

Nick actually felt a pang of guilt at the desperation in his voice. Maybe Sloane was right, maybe it was two minds in one body. “I’m sorry. You gave us no choice, you’re the one we need.”

“Give her back!”

“I can’t.”

“You don’t understand! I love her! We’ve been together our whole lives! Please! I can’t be alone!”

“You won’t be where you’re going,” Hank said, moving towards him.

He sobbed, dropping down to his knees again. “No…no no…Stacy, baby, please…I can’t live without you…”

“Then let me send you to her.”

Hank paused at the voice, confused. It was a woman’s voice, echoing in the small courtyard. Then a shot rang out that went straight through Linus’ chest—and judging by the hole, it was likely a hollow point with how large the wound bloomed when exiting him. Linus’ eyes widened a moment before he looked at peace and collapsed. “St…cy…”

Hank backed up in shock and Wu immediately drew his gun, looking around. “Who’s there?!”

“Up here.” Nick turned, looking up at the building that had been several paces behind Linus. From the roof, a woman jumped down nimbly, like a free runner, and sauntered over, holding a large sniper rifle in her hands.

Nick tilted his head, but the white streak and the face were hard not to place after looking at the footage from the spice shop. “Dierdre?”

She smiled a bit. “You must be Nicholas…yes, you look a lot like Kelly. But also, your father.”

Nick eased a bit in surprise. “You knew my father?”

“Very briefly, met when I ended up where he and Kelly was living once. Honestly, I thought he was a weak choice on her part. All brains, no skills.” Nick glared a bit and she just smiled. “Oh, don’t take it personally, dear. My standards are very high, as I’m sure Sloane told you.”

“She’s told us enough,” Hank said, raising his gun with Nick. Wu followed suit as well. “You killed our murder suspect so the way I see it, you’re our new murderer and coming with us.”

Dierdre stared a moment before chuckling and then actually laughing. “Oh! You are funny, I’ll give you that.”

“We’re serious,” Nick said. “Drop the gun, kick it over, and get on your knees.”

“Oh, that’s a lot of instructions…let’s see…drop the gun and kick it?” She let go and then with her foot flipped it back up lined up a shot and fired before they could even blink. It just missed all of them but struck the wall of the synagogue. Wu jumped and looked at it, then back at her with wide eyes. Hank resisted but swallowed softly. For an older woman, her reflexes were sharp as a blade. But Nick was fairly steady still. “Oops, I forgot the last step it seems…”

“She failed to mention how _funny_ you are,” Nick said. “Why did you kill him? He was down, we were taking him into custody! He couldn’t woge anymore!”

She eyed them. “You think you can be a Grimm and a detective?”

“Yes. I’m good at both.”

“Mmm, doubtful. You don’t bring wesen into custody. Even if their powers are gone. You put them down like the dangerous animals they are and hope the others get the point. Though even if they don’t, they’ll be put down as well and anyone who helps them,” she said. It was said brightly as though talking about baking a pie or her favorite hobby.

“That’s not how we do things. We take them in whenever we can, to face justice.”

“This is justice, child,” she said dryly.

“That’s debatable,” Hank said.

“I’m not talking to you, Tierliebhaber,” she said bluntly. Hank’s brows went up, unsure what she just called him, but it sounded like she hated whatever it was. “Now, I’ve got four shots left in this rifle. That’s, at the most, one more than I need if I wanted to end this quickly.”

Nick held his gun at her face. “Or we could shoot you first.”

“Can you?” she asked. “Ah, but I did tell Sloane I’d wait to hunt _you._ All of you, I suppose. So, for now I’ll settle for the Huntha.” She turned to walk off.

“I told you to get on your knees!” Nick yelled.

“I don’t get on my knees for anyone,” she said, her tone dropping to ice. She then jumped and Nick gasped at how high she managed to go, grabbing onto the side of the roof and flipping back onto it. He did fire one shot, but it missed and she was gone.

“Okay, that was some Spiderman stuff right there,” Wu said, voice a little shaky. “She’s like my mother’s age and can move like that?”

“Apparently,” Hank sighed. He holstered his gun, looking down at Linus. “How do we explain this?”

“…Maybe we say he dressed as a woman to throw off witnesses before robbing them with a woman’s help and Mr. Carson was killed trying to confront him?” Wu suggested.

“Best we might get…Nick?”

Nick finally looked away from the roof line. “Yeah, sorry…just…”

“We’ll get her,” Hank said. “But for now, we gotta do damage control here.”

\------------------------

Sloane went back home with Monroe and Rosalee after checking to be sure the coast was clear. They’d stopped for dinner on the way at a place with vegan dishes for Monroe and were eating while watching a movie to calm down. But Sloane was still peeking out of the window fairly often. Rosalee was worried about her turning paranoid, but she also couldn’t blame her. In a way it was also reassuring that she took protecting them so seriously.

When it was almost midnight, Sloane’s phone rang. She didn’t have a ringtone for Nick—just the generic one. She was too scared she might choose something that betrayed her feelings. “It’s Nick.” Monroe paused the movie and she put the call on speaker. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, we’re alright…”

“Uh oh, that doesn’t sound like the triumphant tone of someone who won,” Monroe said.

“No, we did. It worked, he turned into Linus and actually couldn’t turn back. He said he couldn’t “find Stacy”, and freaked out pretty hard. Seemed like they were some sort of linked minds.”

“Interesting…” Sloane said. “We’ll update the books later. But why do you sound frustrated?”

“…He’s dead.”

They all gasped. “Oh no…did I miscalculate the dose or…” Rosalee asked worriedly.

“No, no, you did everything perfect,” Nick reassured her. “He was shot…by Dierdre.”

Sloane’s eyes widened. “Y…you saw her?”

“We talked, briefly. She’s as charming as you made her sound.”

“And you’re okay? All of you?” she asked again, urgent.

“Yes. Just Linus was killed or even hurt. She didn’t have to do it though; he was no threat anymore!” he growled.

“Dierdre has her own criteria for a hunt sometimes,” Sloane said. “Even if they aren’t a threat, if they are wesen, they’re dead. If they help wesen, their dead.”

“She didn’t kill us though…”

“…She’s waiting. She likely has a plan of some kind,” Sloane said.

“She did say she told you she wouldn’t hunt us yet…”

“Oh, that’s reassuring,” Monroe said.

“There’s gotta be a way to make her leave,” Rosalee said, agitated.

“…I’m not sure how,” Sloane said honestly. The note was heavy in her pocket, but she knew telling them about it would just make them more prone to trying to keep her there. And she wasn’t sure that was the best answer.

“Well, we’ll finish up here. Oh, she called Hank something… Tierliebhaber?”

“Ha, yeah… “Animal Lover”. A not so nice term among Grimms for Kehrseite who are friends with wesen.”

“Charming…” he said snidely. “We’ll keep you updated.”

“Okay…talk to you later.”

“Later.”

She hanged up and Sloane sighed. “She followed them instead of you two…I should’ve known. She knew I’d focus my attention here.”

“Well, no one was hurt. I mean, besides the guy you were trying to catch…” Rosalee said.

“This time…” She rubbed over her eyes.

“…Maybe we should head to bed. The guest room is right by ours, fresh sheets are on it, so try to get a goodnight’s sleep.”

“Not sure that’s possible but…yeah, sounds good.” Standing, she smiled wanly at them. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight…” She started upstairs but when Monroe and Rosalee were in their room she silently made her way back down and out the back door. A few feet away was Monroe’s shed for his garden equipment and she went inside that and closed the door. Pulling out her cellphone, she looked at her recent calls and called the number.

“Sloane. Wasn’t sure you’d try to call me,” Dierdre said, sounding amused.

“And I thought you at least kept your word on these matters,” she growled back.

“Oh? What word is that?”

“Your letter said I had five days before you started hunting!”

“Oh, I should’ve been clearer,” she said, mock apologetically. “I meant the hunt for your _friends_. I never said anything about other wesen. I mean, I have to keep busy. And really, I did the world favor killing that abomination.”

“If you hurt my friends—”

“You’ll what?” she asked in her ear.

Sloane gasped and tried to kick out but Dierdre caught her foot and twisted it painfully for a few seconds before she let go and Sloane was able to regain her footing. She could’ve done a lot more damage if she kept twisting but that would end the game. “Why are you here? _How_ are you here?”

“I still have contacts. Asked them to run the plate of your little animal friend’s car, got their address a little while ago. I knew you would be with them, but it was so tempting to follow the others.”

Sloane glared. “If you do anything to them, I will—!”

“Listen to you!” she laughed. “You’re tied down! Tethered to this place and those people, and that is _weakness._ At least with Collin and the others you were on the move, growing your strength, killing what needed to be killed!”

“Nick is a Grimm too. Are you going to kill him?” she asked.

“If he makes me,” she said simply.

“Kelly will hunt you down then,” she reminded her, trying to find anything that might persuade her.

“Let her come. If she stands in my way, she’s not worth letting her live.”

“Then why haven’t you just done it?!” she nearly screamed. “Why are you doing this-this cat and mouse, teasing game and not just…”

“Because you need to learn,” she said vehemently, her hand coming up to grab Sloane’s jaw in a painful grip. “You never learned easily, so I’m making this lesson stick like I did some of the others. I’m doing the cruelest thing I can think of so you will learn. And that’s not to say killing them all in front of you isn’t tempting. But I’m not sure it would work on you. You’d try to get revenge and honestly, it’s all just too troublesome. So, I’m doing something much more likely to get through that thick, stupid skull of yours.”

“How’s that?” Sloane asked, glaring but feeling that old, helpless pit in her stomach.

“I’m to give you hope that I _won’t_ do that, in exchange for dropping them all and leaving and never contacting them again. The life you wanted, the connections you made, severed or it will be their heads instead. Maybe this pain will teach you why these connections should not be made if you want to do your duty as a Grimm properly. It’s not just for your sake though. It’d be so inconvenient killing Nicholas…as it would Hank or Juliette. Though you know I’d have no qualms leaving Monroe and Rosalee’s heads on your doorstep.”

“…How much did Gallin tell you?” she asked, voice wavering a little.

“I know how to ask the most probing questions, you know that. But don’t hold it against her, I twisted her arm…then again, let’s add her name to the list. She said you encouraged her to leave and it’s so inconvenient having the library closed.”

“You can’t be serious!”

She squeezed her face, making her wince. “I am. You have to leave and hope that I keep my word and don’t hurt them, but the moment you contact even one of them after you leave this town I will certainly kill them all. And you know I can do it even if you fight me. You’ve always been too weak.” She pushed Sloane away and she nearly fell over, just catching herself on the work bench. Dierdre gave her a disgusted look and turned to walk out. Sloane watched her go and it took a lot of willpower not to scream and destroy the shed. She was angry at Dierdre, but more than that at herself because no matter how tough she acted or tried to be, her mother was too strong for her to fight.

\--------------------------

**Heartbreaker**

\--------------------------

“Hi, you've reached Juliette. Leave a message.”

Nick sighed. Since that night four days ago, Juliette had still not talked to him. He’d left her what felt like dozens of messages and texts, he didn’t know where she was, and he was starting to wonder what he was going to do. He felt like he was going crazy. He felt lost. And he felt alone keeping this inside.

“Juliette, it's me. Call me…I don't know what else to say,” he said honestly. He hanged up, sighing.

Hank came in just a moment later, much brighter. While having a suspect die on their watch wasn’t good, once they told Renard he took care of it. Since no one knew they were going to confront Linus that night (to avoid a lot of questions on the cross bow if things went wrong), he decided the best course of action was for him to be “found” dead. Trying to rob the wrong target would be their story and though they’d allegedly try to find the shooter it would eventually go cold—unless they could get Dierdre. That would be easier said than done, so for all intents and purposes it was closed. “You order yet?”

“No,” Nick sad, putting his phone down.

Hank arched his brow. “You going to order?”

He sighed and shook his head. “Nah.”

“Something going on?” Hank asked worriedly.

Nick hesitated but sighed and leaned in, speaking quietly. “Juliette walked out.”

Hank was shocked, then leaned in, trying to speak calmly. “Did you guys have a fight?”

He chuckled cynically. “A fight, I could deal with. This... not so much.”

He didn’t try to keep it casual now, openly worried. “What happened?”

Nick sighed, rubbing over his face before speaking again. “You know what we had to go through to undo what Adalind did?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, there was a side effect.”

“You all right?” he asked immediately.

“Yeah, it's...It's not what happened to me.”

He frowned deeper. “I don't like where this is going…”

“It doesn't get any better,” he said, groaning softly. He looked at him with a deep breath. “Juliette's a Hexenbiest.”

Hank’s eyes widened and his internal alarm ramped up to _RED ALERT_ fast. He leaned in more. “Run that past me again.” He was sure he did hear that right, and that Nick wouldn’t joke about this, but he really hoped one of those was happening right now.

Nick sighed. “I knew something was wrong. I just didn't know what. And she was trying to figure out a way to tell me, but she just... she couldn't.”

Hank’s jaw worked soundlessly for a bit before he looked at him anxiously. “So how'd you find out?” he asked.

“…She decided show would work better than tell. After Adalind tried to attack her at the house—”

“Seriously?!” he hissed.

“Yeah. But Juliette…beat her. Maybe it was the element of surprise, I don’t know. But when I came home she prepared me as best she could and then just… _woged._ ”

“How is this possible?” Hank breathed, mind spinning.

“I don't know. Turning into Adalind I guess…If I knew, I would never have put her through this,” Nick sighed, agitated just thinking about it.

“All right, so what are you going to do?”

The feeling drained out of him and he shook his head. “I don't know. I...I don't even know what I'm dealing with. Neither does she. I don't have a lot of luck with Hexenbiests.”

“And she might be afraid of what you might do to her—Oh, man, this is really messed up,” he said, shell shocked.

“Yeah…”

“Can you undo it?”

“Not from what I'm told…”

“…What about Sloane? Where is she anyway?” Hank said, looking around.

“I don’t know. But I haven’t told her. I mean I told her we were having some problems, just not…this. I don’t know if I should. I mean…I don’t think she’d know anything and I’m worried that if I do need her help Juliette will say no or start a fight and then…”

“It’s a lot to think about,” Hank agreed.

“Yeah…I haven’t told Monroe and Rosalee either. Just you and…she told Renard.”

“Renard?” he asked, surprised.

“She said to get help. And he sent her to someone else who told her there is no help.”

“Man…no wonder you're not hungry,” he said, trying to smile and lighten the mood though it was a bit half-hearted. Nick tried to smile back with just as much, if maybe half that half of heart. He sighed and sobered a bit. “If there's anything I can do to help...”

“Right now, she's not even talking to me…” He heard his phone and for a brief moment he was hopeful. But the number was from the precinct. He sighed but accepted the call. “Burkhardt…Where?...All right.” He ended the call and looked at Hank. “Got a dead body at Mount Tabor Park.”

Hank sighed as well and stood. “I need to start carrying meal bars like Sloane.”

“Yeah. I’ll text her. Guess she’ll just have to meet us there.” 

They headed out and over to the scene. Wu was there waiting for them and nodded as they walked up. “Hey. Cyclist discovered a bike on the trail up there and a helmet, then saw the body down here. Looks like some kind of allergic reaction, but I doubt it's to the flora or fauna.” He lead them down to where the body rested of a young man. He looked like he’d fallen from his bike and rolled all the way down the hill from the amount of dirt. But more concerning was the large number of pustules on his face—hives it looked like, or some other kind of swollen boil.

“It doesn't look like acid. Face isn't burned,” Nick said.

“Well after the other night, that’s a relief,” Wu sighed. He paused and looked around. “Hey, Sloane isn’t here…?”

The frowned as well. “We haven’t seen her today…” Hank said.

“She might still be with Monroe and Rosalee,” Nick said. “I’m sure she’s fine. She’s not going to let Dierdre get the drop on her.”

“After what she did to that pedestrian, I’m pretty sure of that,” Wu sighed. “I guess we’ll brief her on this later.”

They nodded and Hank looked up at the trail where the bike was found. “My guess is it happened up there. He was either overcome by something that happened earlier, like maybe he ate something that didn't agree with him…in a big way.”

Nick nodded, kneeling to look through pockets and pulled out a wallet. “Zack Blumenthal, 26 years old. Lives over on Thurman.”

He handed it up to Wu to log and he looked it over. “Organ donor, but I think that ship has sailed…”

“Do we think this is a homicide or an accident?” Nick sighed.

“I figure we should wait for the M.E. report,” Hank said.

Nick nodded and held up a key ring he’d also found. “Why don't we check out his place? Hopefully, one of these keys will open it up.”

They headed to the apartment to do their preliminary search. Mr. Blumenthal lived alone it seemed, and fitness was a large part of his life. They found designs for athletic shoes and an award for those designs, answering questions about his day job. They also found a photograph of a lovely blonde woman, and several sketches that could be her. It definitely interested them, so they kept the picture.

They took almost an hour searching the rest of the apartment and Sloane still hadn’t shown up. Nick frowned and pulled out his phone. No answer to his call or text. Sighing, he tried calling again with no answer. This was starting to worry him. They returned to the precinct, thinking she might be there, but there was no sign of her. Lunch came and went while they tried to find more information. Wu found pictures of the same woman from the apartment saved on the vic’s laptop, and most all were candid shots. More than a little creepy giving the number, but Wu found they were from a Facebook page for the River City Riders—a group of cyclists that the vic was a member of. They’re next meeting was soon, at a trail almost exactly where their he was found.

And Sloane still wasn’t there. While he understood why Juliette was not responding, he had no idea why Sloane would be ignoring him. Hank tried and she never called back either. This was not like her at all so Nick called someone he knew would pick up.

“Hey, Nick, what’s up?” Monroe answered.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah. Little sore from my morning workout—I’ve been neglecting my Pilates, so my flexibility isn’t great—”

“Okay, you’re alright,” Nick sighed in relief. “What about Rosalee and Sloane.”

“Rosalee is fine. Sloane asked us to stay home today and then took off—she said she was meeting you guys.”

Nick felt his gut twist. “We haven’t seen her all day…We got a call for a case and she never showed up, and she hasn’t answered my texts or calls.”

“What…Hold on. Hey, honey?” Rosalee looked up from reading a book on the couch. “Sloane was going to meet Nick and Hank, right? Did she tell you different?”

Rosalee frowned, putting her book down. “No…”

Monroe frowned as well. “She never showed up and they can’t reach her.”

“What?” She was up quickly, on high alert. She pulled out her phone and starting dialing.

Monroe focused back on Nick, putting him on speaker. “You said you have a case?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know if it’s wesen yet. A man dead at Tabor Park. We’ve already been to the scene, his apartment, doing research…And she never picked up or responded for us. I was hoping she was with you guys still…”

“I can’t reach her either,” Rosalee said.

“You don’t think Dierdre did anything to her…I mean, she’s her mother! Could she be _that_ evil?” Monroe asked, unsure.

“Considering how she raised her, it’s possible,” Nick said, agitated.

“Okay…we’ll go check her house and let you know,” he said, looking at Rosalee who nodded.

“Thanks,” he sighed.

Monroe hanged up and looked at Rosalee. “You still got your key?”

“Yes. Just a sec, it’s upstairs.” She went up to her table upstairs, grabbing the key she kept on a new keychain that had a scrollwork ‘S’ on it. She paused at the room Sloane stayed in the last night to watch over them and walked in. She was hoping maybe she had come back and was napping or writing or…anything. But it was empty, the bed made and clean. It looked like she hadn’t been there at all except she knew she’d been there that morning for breakfast.

She was about to turn away when she noticed something on the ground near the foot of the bed. A piece of paper. That was odd so she picked it up, thinking it might be something Sloane needed. Reading over it though her heart stopped. “Monroe…Monroe!”

“What?” he yelled rushing upstairs.

“Look at this! It must’ve fallen out of Sloane’s pocket.”

Monroe took it, reading out loud on habit. ““You better remember what you are. I’ll get them eventually, and it will be your fault. You want to save them, leave Portland and get back to work. Never contact them again or I’ll end it permanently. I’ll give you five days before the hunt is on. If you think I’m not serious, check by the dumpster.…signed D.”” His eyes widened. “Whoa…”

“It’s Dierdre. She’s trying to make Sloane leave Portland to protect us!”

“O-okay, if she’s considering that then…I mean, she really must be at her house getting her stuff, right?”

Rosalee grabbed the note and rushed for the door, Monroe close behind. He grabbed his phone out and dialed Nick’s number back.

“Hey, find her already?” he asked hopefully.

“Not exactly. We found a note left by Dierdre at some point saying if she doesn’t leave Portland she’ll kill us—kill Sloane’s friends!”

“What?!”

“Yeah! It must’ve been at the shop the other night, it said something about a dumpster—anyway, she might be planning on leaving!”

Nick took a deep breath and started grabbing his stuff. “We’ll meet you at her house.”

“Okay.” Monroe hanged up and reversed as fast as he dared out of the driveway.

\------------------------------

Sloane was just finishing boxing up her books. She didn’t have time to pack up everything—the pictures she put up, the souvenirs she’d brought from Oma’s she’d acquired over the years, all her furniture would all be left behind. She had to prioritize her books and weapons. Even then she didn’t have enough room. She’d filled a box with things to give to Nick for the trailer.

She sighed and stood. She’d have to figure out the best way to load it all now—the layout of her new car was different. As she was trying to imagine the space and visualize how to stake them, there was a knock at her door. “Sloane?” Rosalee called.

Her eyes widened and she cursed. She didn’t think they’d come over there so quickly! She figured a few more hours of her being gone and then they’d start looking and find some carefully worded letter left in a conspicuous place. Dramatic but informative. So, she kept quiet.

“Sloane? Sloane, are you there?”

“I can’t see through the blinds,” Monroe sighed. “Better open the door. Let me go first, just in case.”

Sloane cursed again as she heard the key in the lock. “Wait, don’t-!”

The trap was tripped, and the paintball gun started firing. “Ahh, what the hell!?” Monroe yelled as green and yellow splats of paint were fired at him. He was blocking Rosalee with his body on instinct, but the paint was going everywhere. Sloane rushed over and quickly pulled the trigger jammer from the gun. Monroe stared at her askance, arms up and looking down at his clothes that were now like something form a Jackson Pollack painting. “Why…?”

“It…was meant in case Dierdre came,” she said, covering her mouth. She was trying very hard not to laugh but she could hear Rosalee laughing hard behind him.

“Didn’t realize Grimms had a weakness to paintball,” he said.

“We don’t, but figured it was the best way I could do it without neighbors calling the cops about a dead woman on my lawn with a crossbow bolt through her chest…Though not sure even that would kill her.”

“Fair enough…”

Rosalee came around him into house. She paused when she saw the boxes though. “…You’re really going to leave?” Sloane looked at her in surprise and she held up the note. “You forgot this…”

Sloane dropped the gun and checked her pockets before sighing. “Dammit…”

“Sloane, you don’t have to go,” she said, coming forward.

“It’s safer for you all if I do,” she said, taking a step back.

“Without even saying goodbye?”

“I just…it was safer if I don’t, and I thought less…hard,” she admitted.

“For who?” she asked, a little upset.

Sloane didn’t answer, looking down at the floor. Rosalee looked at her worriedly.

Just then Nick and Hank rushed up to the door. “Oh, thank God, you’re still here,” Nick breathed.

“Yeah…uh, what happened to you?” Hank asked, looking at Monroe.

“She had a trap,” he said testily.

“Oh yeah, forgot about that…”

“Would you all please, get out?!” Sloane snapped, startling them all. “I’m doing this for you! Just…let me go.”

Nick stared and then frowned and marched forward. “Do you want to go?” She looked at him and then away. “Do you want to go?” he asked again.

“Dierdre will kill all of you if I don’t leave and go back to hunting on the road! She fired an arrow at the shop, she will have no qualms doing it to one of you when you least expect—” she said, looking near the point of a breakdown.

“That’s not what I asked. Do you want to go?”

“No!” She yelled, her voice cracking. Tears were coming to her eyes and Nick was surprised. He’d never seen her actually cry before. “Of course, I don’t want to go, dammit! This is my home! My house! My life! But that’s because of all of you and I can’t let her hurt you!”

Nick put his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. “She can try, but that’s not going to happen. You are staying here, in _your_ house, with _your_ friends. If she doesn’t like it, she can take it up with _all_ of us together if she’s got the guts to do that instead of just threatening us.” Sloane stared at him, astonished by the steel in his voice. Nick had been pretty down, what with having a fight with Juliette, but he was ready for a fight.

“He’s right,” Hank agreed, smiling. “You’re _our_ girl. We’re not letting anyone make you leave.”

Sloane breathed deep, feeling a strange emotion well up. She felt tears go down her cheeks, but not in sadness or frustration. _Relief. Happiness._ But she shook her head. “My past keeps bringing you all trouble though! First Collin, now Dierdre! Hell, _me!_ I just keep causing problems—”

“Nope, not going that route,” Hank said, walking over. “I’ve read too many comics in my day not to recognized “Brooding Hero” when I see it. Collin was not your fault, and neither is this woman. So, you get that all out of your head, now.”

“Yeah, you’re not your mother’s keeper,” Monroe said. “And everyone has an ex that’ll bring trouble if they can.”

“Our point is, we’re not letting her get to us, so don’t let her get to you,” Rosalee said. “After Wesenrein and Collin and everything else, I feel weirdly ready for a crazy Grimm.”

“…You are all probably crazier than her. And so am I,” she said, smiling a little. They walked forward and she didn’t move back this time as they hugged her as a group.

“We’ll figure something out. But you told me I gotta stop doing stuff on my own and thinking I have to protect everyone. The same goes for you,” Nick said gently.

“Yeah. She isn’t just your curse anymore,” Monroe said.

Sloane smiled then paused and looked thoughtful. “Curse…That could work…”

“What could?” Rosalee asked.

“I’ve got an idea, hold on. I’ll be right back,” she said, gently getting out from their embrace. She took out her phone and went to the other room. Waiting for it to connect, she breathed out when she heard Renard’s voice.

“Sloane?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“Well, good to know you’re alive,” he said, a little snide.

Sloane frowned but sighed. “I’m sorry I didn’t come in or call. Dierdre made a move.”

“Are you alright?” he asked, sounding a might concerned now.

“Yeah. It was more her telling me to get out of Portland and go back to my old way of life or she’ll kill as many people I consider my friend as she can.”

“I see…” he said, troubled.

“She’s given me five days—well, four-ish now—and I honestly don’t think that she’d keep her word to leave anyone alone, but I almost did leave. The others all figured it out and came to stop me. They’re convincing,” she said wryly.

“Well, that’s good. I’d prefer not losing one of my better investigators.”

“Well, as one of your better investigators, I have a favor to ask…”

“You want me to try and assassinate Dierdre?”

“…If I thought it would work, maybe. But…she is also still my mother, at least by blood,” she sighed. “At least in my grandmother’s memory I don’t want her dead if I can help it. No, I was hoping you could point me in the direction of a Hexenbiest.”

Renard seemed to freeze a moment before speaking again. “Hexenbiest? Why?”

“I need to see if they have a spell that can stop her somehow…Preferably not involving any sex,” she added under her breath.

“…I see. I know someone then.”

“Not Adalind, I may kill her,” Sloane said.

“No, not Adalind. Her name is Henrietta. Nick knows where she is.”

“What?”

“Just ask him. Keep me updated.”

He hanged up and she frowned at her phone. “I was going to say she might kill you too, but sometimes I wonder if we’re friends…”

They looked up when she came back in. “Who’d you call?” Hank asked.

“Renard. I need to find a hexenbiest. He says you know one?” She looked at Nick and blinked at the sheer _panic_ on his face. He looked like someone had punched him in the gut. Hank looked panicky as well and she was confused. “Uh…he said her name was Henrietta?”

Nick breathed out in relief and nodded. “Right, yes…Henrietta…”

“Wait, you know another Hexenbiest?” Monroe asked in surprise.

“She…came up in an investigation,” Nick said evasively. “Lives at 1—” Though he tried to keep talking, but his jaw worked soundless. He frowned and tried again.

“You okay?” Monroe asked.

“Yeah…I guess I can’t say it out loud,” he sighed. He grabbed a pad and pen from the coffee table. “This is her address. Memorize it, trust me, this note won’t help.”

“What?” She took it when he offered it back, reading the address. Seconds later the letters twirled and cascaded all around the paper and she jumped.

“Whoa…” Monroe said.

“A Hexenbiest who values her privacy,” Rosalee said. She looked at Sloane. “Do you want me to go with you?”

“No, I’ll be alright alone I think. You should take it easy someplace secure, just to be safe.”

“We got a case to keep working on,” Hank sighed.

“Does it seem Wesen?” Sloane asked, worried.

“Maybe, we aren’t sure yet,” Nick said honestly. “ME’s been busy lately, we’re waiting for the results. Something he ingested or touched just…did a number on him. Not melting, but…we’ll show you later.”

“Yeah, do what you gotta do. We know you got this, we got this, and we got you when you need us.”

She smiled, calming down and looking more like herself.

“You do owe me a shirt though,” Monroe pointed out, making them all smile and laugh a little.

\------------------------------

“Prince Kenneth Alun Goderich Bowes-Lyon, may I present Adalind Schade?” Rispolli said respectfully. Adalind had having a leisurely breakfast when he’d come in saying Prince Kenneth, Viktor’s replacement, would be arriving soon and to get presentable. Adalind was annoyed but knew full well not to test him or the royals and quickly changed into a little black dress that showed off her figure and some designer heels from the closet Viktor had set up. She had to give him credit, he had taste.

Now a young man—Mid to late twenties if she had to guess—entered the room. He wasn’t dressed like a prince. Viktor had been meticulous in his suits and shined shoes. While she had no doubt his clothes were just as expensive, he was dressed in a black shirt and brown leather jacket over dark jeans and boots. He was handsome, as most royals were, but looked bored.

“Good afternoon, your highn—” she started.

“So, you're the Hexenbiest mother of the child everyone's so obsessed with,” he sighed.

She tensed a bit. His tone was not hostile, but neither was it friendly. It was a rebuff. To put her in her place. That descriptor was all she was to him. Taking a breath, she straightened and tried to maintain her dignity. “Yes.”

He looked her over and paced around. “I'm here for one reason, and that's to get your child back to the family.” She held her tongue, though she felt bit of foreboding at the words. “I understand you made contact with Mr. Burkhardt's girlfriend. Juliette.”

“I did,” she confirmed.

He turned and smiled, but there was no mirth behind it. “And how did that go?”

Adalind hesitated. This was not a man you wanted to admit weakness or fault to. But he was going find out one way or another and lying would be a worse idea. “Nick is a Grimm again,” she sighed.

He did look surprised a moment and turned to look at Rispolli, who’s stony face didn’t betray much. “I was told you took care of that.”

“I did, but he figured out a way to undo it,” she explained.

“That's possible?

“I didn't think so. But it does explain why Juliette is now a Hexenbiest. I want that bitch dead,” she finished darkly.

“A Hexenbiest? Well, I was wondering why she wasn’t dead already…” he said, huffing a laugh. “I’ll be honest, I don’t care for Hexenbiests. In fact, I find this whole ordeal trying to get your bastard back a bit below me.”

Adalind felt a flash of anger but kept it in check. “Then why are you here?”

“Because it’s what the king wants. Believes in some old prediction or some such that a child born of a royal and one of your kind could mean the end of the royal family…or it’s ultimate rise to power. He thought Sean might be that child, but we both know how laughable that is. He has no power of his own,” he said, truly smiling for the first time. It was malicious and hateful and Adalind suddenly felt for Renard. As much as she was angry, she remembered this was what he’d grown up with.

“…I just want my baby back,” she said.

“Oh, you’ll get her back. For how long is up to how useful you actually are. I’m letting your past failures slide this _once_. By the King’s request. The moment you aren’t useful in anyway, I have no need for you. Understand?”

She swallowed. Henrietta’s words were coming back to her and she wondered if she really had made a mistake aligning herself with the royals. But she nodded. “Yes…I understand.”

\----------------------------

While Nick and Hank returned to the precinct to keep looking into Mr. Blumenthal’s case, Sloane went the address Nick had copied down. She hadn’t expected a sweetly yellow-painted Victorian house but walked up to it and knocked.

The beautiful black woman who answered smiled at her. “Well, this has been my week for visitors…please, come in.”

Sloane hesitated but did so. “Are you…Henrietta?”

“I am. And you…you’re the other Grimm in town.”

Sloane nodded slowly. “Yes…Sloane Larson.”

She smiled and closed the door. Her house was very classic and homey. “So, what brings you here? Are you here to talk about Juliette?”

Sloane blinked and frowned. “What about Juliette?”

Henrietta looked at her, assessing, then smiled. “Never mind. That’s between her and Mr. Burkhardt I believe.” She frowned more but the Hexenbiest sat down at a table and motioned for her to join. “So, why are you here?”

“…I need a curse.”

Henrietta’s brow rose. “A curse? That’s surprising…and not my usual fair. I try to be a bit more neutral on things in the world, if not…kinder.”

“That’s surprising too,” Sloane said, sitting. “No offense but aside from Renard’s mother—who still honestly I don’t know how to read—Hexenbiest have been downright evil.”

“Yes. That saying about power corrupting is true. When you feel you can do practically anything, you feel it’s your right to do anything you want. It’s a mindset I’ve worked hard to try and unlearn. And even now temptation is always there to cause a little chaos and get what I want. But I try.”

“…Okay,” Sloane said, easing slightly. “Then I’m giving you a chance to cause chaos. For another Grimm.”

Henrietta looked intrigued and leaned in. “Go on…”

“I want a curse to protect my friends from my mentor. My…mother. A very strong Grimm.”

“A curse for protection…that’s new. Is she a threat?”

“A big one. She’s given me an ultimatum: Leave or everyone I care about here dies. Nick, Hank, Juliette—all of them. Including wesen friends I have. But I don’t want to leave, and I don’t trust her to keep her word if I did.”

Henrietta smiled at some secret joke but nodded slowly. “You want something that will keep her from following through on that threat. Make her incapable of hurting them.”

“Yes.”

“And you?”

“…I’m not the priority.”

“Oh, that’s a sad thing to say…but I understand.” She stood and walked over to a shelf of books, moving her fingers along the spines. “I have one in mind. It is indeed a spell of protection against one person, that can be stacked to protect many. The base is a sort of vessel that you will have to hide somewhere to keep safe.”

“Sounding good so far…”

“You haven’t heard my price,” she said, taking a large book bound in purple died leather down. It had a large lock shaped like a many pointed star on the front.

“Don’t suppose you accept credit cards?” she said, smiling thinly.

“No. And cash isn’t a large concern.”

“If it’s a first born you want, you may be waiting a long time,” Sloane said.

“Ha, no. Never had children, never want children. No…” She looked her over. “What would you give me for this, I wonder? Would you give me your blood? Your tongue? Your eyes?”

“…I’d need my eyes,” she said.

Henrietta laughed. “Oh, you’d consider the others!”

“I can make more blood and…I can learn sign language. My eyes…I guess I’d just need one,” she said thoughtfully.

Henrietta stared and then burst out laughing again. “I’m sorry, that little chaotic streak in me coming out again. I was just teasing. But I didn’t expect you to be so willing!”

“…It’s for my friends,” she said quietly.

“…You’re heart seems good,” she smiled. “Not that I want that either.”

“Then what?”

Henrietta hummed before resting her head on her hands. “Let’s say…a favor. I don’t need it yet, but one day when I need your help.”

“…Alright,” She nodded. Henrietta smiled and held out her hand and she hesitated before taking it. She gasped when she felt a burning sensation and took her hand back. On her palm was a mark in black that resembled two crescent moons set end to end was on her hand. Before she could voice her displeasure, it disappeared as she watched. “What was that?!”

“Just a little insurance. I invoke that mark, you have to keep your promise. Or face some consequences.”

“…Seems a bit distrusting.”

“I’m a Hexenbiest, dear, I’m well acquainted with double dealing the same as you,” she said with a smirk. “Now, let’s get started.

\-----------------------------

Nick and Hank had gone to talk with the River City Riders at the park right after they left Sloane’s house. They were still preparing to go, checking over their gear together and shooting the breeze, when they pulled up. Questioning them, they were all shocked and horrified to hear that Zack was dead. No one had seen what happened, but they had seen him take off after a girl named Bella Turner. They confirmed Bella was the woman in the pictures and that they were pretty sure Zack had a major crush on her. But she kept to herself. Apparently while she was part of the club, it was purely for cycling and not so much to socialize. She was passionate about cycling and worked at a shop called City Bikes on Ankenny street.

While Hank took down the club member’s information, Nick got a call from Wu. ME had the results back and Zack had been killed by a toxin that caused acute systolic heart failure—essentially a broken heart. It was classified as a batrachotoxin, usually found in frogs and birds in Papua New Guinea, though even their toxins were not the same as the one found in the victim. Extremely deadly all the same though, as even one ounce of this poison could kill 10,000 mice, 10 to 20 humans, and 2 African bull elephants according to Wu’s research. He was pretty sure whatever killed Zack was wesen, and Nick and Hank were inclined to agree as the ME had no explanation for why it would be there.

Going to City Bikes, they went in with the thought in mind Zack’s crush was their wesen. Bella Turner was in the back doing repairs and he was fairly sure she’d tried to get out the back as they came around, but she smiled and said hello when he called her name. She also acted shocked at the news of Zack’s death, and it could be believable, but Nick wasn’t sure. As they pressed about what happened when he followed her further ahead on the trail she got more upset. Though she turned away on occasion, she never showed any sign of woging though. Not even when he asked about batrachotoxin.

After they left he called Monroe and Rosalee—they’d decided to go to the shop and install more cameras and they had learned to secure it tightly. They were ready when he came over though and started explaining what they’d found out.

It was during this explanation Sloane came in. “Hey, good, you all are here,” she sighed.

“Hey!” Rosalee said, going over. “You’re okay?”

“I’m fine…she’s…not bad for a Hexenbiest?”

“Really? She wasn’t great to me,” Nick huffed.

“She wouldn’t tell me why you two met but she said you were pretty upset about something and it, uh… made her want to tease you?” He blushed and looked away.

“What about your visit?” Rosalee asked. “Did she have an answer?”

“She does,” Sloane smiled. “But it’s not easy.”

“When is this ever,” Monroe sighed. “You don’t have to like…sleep with anyone though, right?” Nick looked at him and he grimaced in apology.

“No, none of that thankfully. I need something from you guys though.”

“What?”

She sighed and pulled out what looked like several small bits of paper. “Blood.” They all looked at her with wide eyes and she went on quickly. “She’s doing the first part of the spell, which is making me the little…alter, vessel, thing. When it’s done, I have to put a tab of this special paper with your blood on it inside. I also need to get Renard and Wu’s…Bud and his family to be safe. And, uh…Kelly.”

“My mom? She threatened my mom?” Nick asked, standing a bit.

“More in that she said if you made her have to kill you, she’d fight Kelly when she came for her. Better safe than sorry. If there’s anyone you’re worried about, she gave me a lot of these tabs and we can keep adding them in till the jar is full Anyone whose tab is inside she won’t be able to hurt—at least not on purpose she said.”

“That’s pretty cool,” Monroe said.

“What did you have to give her for it?” Rosalee asked.

“I had to promise to do her a favor someday. She didn’t specify what or if she even had one in mind…”

“That sounds ominous,” Nick said worriedly.

“Yeah, but I figure that’s a future Sloane problem. Now, find something sharp and bleed on this.”

They took the tabs and Rosalee grabbed a small knife to prick their fingers—lighting a flame to pass it through to be safe. “So, this is all we have to do?”

“Yeah, you guys. I…have a bit more to do.”

“Sloane,” she warned, still holding the knife.

“…I have to get Dierdre’s blood,” she sighed.

“…Oh hell,” Monroe muttered. The others looked just as worried.

“Yeah…but that’s my mission.”

“You think you can do it alone?” Nick asked.

“I think she won’t expect it. So, it might be my best bet. She’s surprised I’m standing up to her. I am too, honestly…” she admitted. She then looked at Nick and Hank. “What about you two? How’s the case going?”

“Uh, confusing,” Nick admitted. He accepted the knife when Rosalee offered it straight from the fire and hissed when he pricked his finger. Letting a drop onto the paper tab, he watched as it soaked in and then it was pulled through the paper, creating a swirling design across it with his name. “Whoa…”

“That’s kinda cool…But yeah, we’re not sure what’s going on. We’re pretty sure it’s wesen because it’s excreting a poison found in animals in Papua New Guinea, but not sure what kind of wesen it is,” Hank said.

“And our one suspect didn’t woge when I confronted her,” Nick sighed. “She got upset, she answered the questions, but no woge. So, it’s either someone else that maybe was jealous or…”

Rosalee pricked her finger for her tab and immediately held the knife back in the fire. “If it's secreting batrachotoxins through its skin, then touching is deadly.”

“And you're saying she didn't woge?” Monroe asked, accepting the knife. He grimaced and was not enjoying all the blood scent mixing around but quickly did his own without looking at the blood.

“No,” Nick shook his head.

“See, I was thinking it was a Peau de la Mort, but those rascals, you sneeze and they woge,” He said, holding a tissue to the pin prick.

“They’re more like birds too, aren’t they?” Sloane said, trying to remember.

“Yeah, really nervous birds…”

“I think you're dealing with Folterseele,” Rosalee said, handing the knife to Hank once it was clean.

“What is that?” he asked as he did his card.

“Well, they're kind of classically tragic. Always beautiful, always deadly,” she sighed sympathetically.

“Really? You think a Folterseele,” Monroe asked in surprise.

She nodded, looking at the others. “They're kind of rare, thank God, and they don't woge like any other Wesen.”

“Then how do they woge?” Nick asked. Sloane was curious too; she hadn’t heard of these wesen before.

“Well, it's not an emotional response. It's more of a physical…sexual one.”

“So, like, when they're aroused?” Hank asked.

“It's not them; it's whoever's turned on by them. It's a defense mechanism,” she explained.

“Yeah, an extremely offensive defense mechanism,” Monroe added.

“Well, no wonder they're rare,” Nick muttered.

Hank looked up, thinking. “That sounds like the old Frog Prince story…”

“Yeah, but you kiss this frog, your face bloats up and you die,” Monroe said.

“So, hold on,” Sloane said. “The only way you can get a Folterseele to woge is if you you’re attracted to her? _Sexually_?”

“Yeah, basically,” Rosalee nodded.

“So, we can't tie her to the crime and we can't make her woge…Interrogation room's not gonna work on this one,” Hank said, looking at his partners. They both sighed, looking troubled as well.

“Unless you guys get in there and one of you is, like, totally into her, and then...”

Rosalee scoffed and looked at him. “Really?”

“Well, why not? I don’t think it’s gender specific, so even Sloane…uh, if you liked girls, that is,” he amended.

Sloane shrugged. “Yeah.”

“…Huh?” They all looked at her in surprise.

“Yeah. What, you thought I’d only been with Collin?”

“No, but…”

“I’m not really discerning when it comes to what’s in people’s pants. But sex has never been a high priority for me, so it’s still not a big number of girls or guys. And I guess that might make it harder to woge her?”

“Well…see, you leave, we would stop learning so much about you,” he smiled. Rosalee looked at her apologetically and batted her husband’s shoulder.

“Let’s…get back to the case,” she said, blushing a little.

“Right…So we can't make the arrest 'cause we don't have any evidence, and we won't know if she's a Folterseele 'cause we can't get her to woge,” Nick said, sighing in frustration.

“Look, if you are dealing with the Folterseele, she's not doing this on purpose,” Rosalee said, looking anxious. “She's probably trying to avoid it. A lot of men can't control themselves around the female Folterseele.”

“Don’t tell me she secretes hormones too?” Sloane said.

“Possibly, or it could be that they’re usually seen as very beautiful but…they pull away. And some men find that a turn on.”

“Bad men,” Monroe added.

“Yes, honestly…Most stories I’ve heard are that female Folterseele especially deal with being targets of sexual assault…But then even those they want to get close to would be at risk.”

“That is pretty awful…Well, that's probably why she keeps to herself,” Hank said.

“Exactly. So maybe you guys need to just let this one go, you know, let the sleeping Folterseele lie,” Monroe said.

Nick looked thoughtful but shook his head. “It could happen again, that’s the problem.”

Rosalee sighed, then looked thoughtful. “What if we, I don't know, neutralize what's happening to her, like of like we did with that toad-eating lawyer?”

“Is that possible?” Hank asked.

“Won't know till we try.”

“Try,” Nick said.

She nodded. “Okay, I’ll let you know what we find out.”

“We’ll keep looking into it in the meantime too. Sloane, do you want to come?”

She shook her heads, taking all the tabs they’d done. “Not yet, I gotta get these to Henrietta and then track down Dierdre. If I can do that, I can keep her from following you and maybe killing this girl or someone else too,” she sighed. “But I will stop by the precinct to let Renard and Wu know what’s going on. And get their blood.”

“It’s getting late though,” Hank pointed out.

“The sooner I get this done, the sooner I don’t have to worry about you and Dierdre will be in for a world of trouble…”

“But if you need to get her blood, you might want to rest up. She’s going to put up a fight, I’m sure,” Rosalee said.

“I’m fine—”

“I can see bags under your eyes, sweety,” she said gently.

Sloane sighed but nodded, rubbing her eyes. She hadn’t slept much the night before. “…I’ll rest for a bit while you guys research. Then I go to the station.”

“Okay, that works,” Nick said. “Let us know if you need anything else.”

Sloane nodded and they said their goodbyes before heading out again.

\--------------------------

Adalind was sitting, having an awkward dinner with Kenneth. He mostly ignored her existence, which would be fine by her if she wasn’t also dying for any kind of conversation. Renard at least would talk to her when they would have dinner…

“So…Do you enjoy being in America?” she tried.

“I would prefer being almost anywhere else, including naked in the heart of Africa,” he said, not even looking at her as he took a bit of his steak.

_Well, so much for that…_

Rispolli was actually a savior in this case as he walked back in. “Damerov is here, sir.”

Adalind was a little surprised. Sam Damerov—the private eye Sean had hired that was double dealing into the royals. Viktor had been in contact to get all the information Sean was getting, and information on Sean himself.

Kenneth wiped his mouth and stood. “Bring him in. Hopefully, he has good news about the whereabouts of your child,” he said, fake pleasant. Sam walked in but slowed as he walked to the living area. His face didn’t betray confusion, but it was there in how he moved. “You were expecting Prince Viktor?” he smiled.

“Yes…”

“He's been recalled. I'm Kenneth. I've heard a lot about you, Sam. Have you found Kelly Burkhardt or Adalind's child?” He was acting personable and charming, which put Adalind on guard.

Sam though sighed and walked over, opening his zipped briefcase. “Not yet, but I've made progress.”

“Progress? Is that what's in the briefcase?”

“Yes.” He pulled out a folder and held it out but didn’t approach Kenneth. He knew better than that. Rispolli walked by him and took the folder, delivering it the few feet to the prince. “We know that she sold the truck in Spokane. We believe she's still in the area with the child.”

Kenneth scanned the documents in the folder, but sighed, holding it back out to Rispolli who took it. He then leisurely paced over to Sam. “You know, the problem with being a double agent, Sam, is that you never really know where your loyalties lie…”

“I work for the family, sir,” he said.

Kenneth frowned in sympathy. “Not anymore.” He then struck Sam. The blow nearly knocked him off his feet, but the next did. Then another, and then a kick, making him cough and writhe on the ground. Adalind had stood with the first blow, shocked as Kenneth kept hitting him. She had thought he wouldn’t get his hands dirty—but he enjoyed striking Sam. It was obvious he relished pain and that made her skin crawl. This was the man who wanted to help find her baby? No, he’d made it clear he didn’t care. But the king had sent him here. The king wanted _results_ , and screw whoever was in the way.

Kenneth sighed when he finished and smoothed back his hair. He looked at Adalind and smiled at her. “I'm a little more hands on than Viktor. So, I would do my best to listen. Now…give us a smile.” She felt her stomach roll but managed a smile. “There we go…now, take him out to the car.”

Rispolli nodded, grabbing Sam with another man to head out. Adalind watched him go battered and bruised, and had a bad feeling. But she couldn’t do anything to stop it…

\--------------------

Nick had a rather unsatisfying dinner from the microwave. There was still no sign of Juliette. He was starting to get frustrated, wondering why she wouldn’t at least talk to him. He called her again and again no answer and the frustration leaked out into his voice. “Juliette, where the hell are you? Just answer your damn phone.” It was heated, though not an angry demand. He didn’t want to do that to her. Sighing, he ended the call. Then he heard his laptop email notification beep. Going over, he clicked on the mail icon to see a message from Trubel. Sloane was copied on it.

_Josh moved back in, no Hundjagers yet, seems kind of strange, nobody paying attention._

_I miss you guys._

_Everything okay?_

_Trubel_

Nick hesitated, thinking about messaging her back. He wasn’t sure what Sloane would tell her either. He started typing, still thinking.

_Everything here is_

The front door opening gave him pause and he looked up to see Juliette walk in. “Nick?”

He breathed out, relief flooding him.

 _Fine._ He typed that last word and hit send before standing to go see her. “Juliette…”

She looked up as he came in and then away and the relief faded. “I need to get some of my stuff.”

“What, so you're just... moving out?” he asked. He knew that’s what it was, but he was hoping she’d say something else. Instead she just nodded slowly, and his heart sank.

“I was hoping you wouldn't be home,” she said quietly.

He took a breath, trying to keep calm. The anger and frustration were gone the moment she walked in and he just wanted to save this. Save them. “Look, can we talk about this?”

“There's really nothing you or anybody else can say or do,” she said. “This is who I am.”

“Juliette, this is my fault, and if there's anything I could do to change it, I would,” he said, desperate.

She looked at him and nodded. “I know that.”

“I haven't given up yet!” he said.

She frowned now, looking confused. “Why not?”

“Because I love you!” he said, looking straight into her eyes.

She stared and smiled, which made him hopeful, but then she started laughing. He frowned and she sighed. “That's... That's great. That's really great.” Her tone was bitter and brittle despite the smile.

He frowned, confused by the reaction. “Juliette...?” His phone rang and he looked towards it in annoyance.

“Answer it. Come on, Nick. There's a lot of big, scary Wesen on the loose in Portland. That's what you're good at.” She slapped his arm, laughing again. “Go get 'em, Grimm.” She turned then to head upstairs, and he watched her go. It felt like he was talking to someone else just now, but it was Juliette he was sure. The phone kept ringing and he went to answer it when he saw it was Hank. “Hey, what’s up?”

“We got another dead guy,” Hank sighed. “Like Zack.”

Nick cursed under her breath. “Where?”

“Bike City.”

“Bella Turner’s shop…”

“Yeah. I’m heading down now.”

Nick looked up towards the bedroom. “…I’m on my way,” he sighed.

\------------------

Sloane rested like she said, and even ate dinner with Monroe and Rosalee while they took a break researching. But she then headed back to the precinct. She didn’t see Wu at the station, but she did see Renard in his office. She went over and knocked but he held up a hand. He seemed troubled, talking on the phone to someone. Finally, he hanged up and gestured for her to come in. He looked unsettled and she frowned. “You okay?”

“Fine, just a business call,” he sighed. “Were you able to see Henrietta?”

“Yeah. She’s nice.”

He quirked his brow. “I…see. So, she helped you?”

“We’re working on it. That’s part of why I’m here. Bleed on this.” She held out the paper.

“…Excuse me?”

“Sorry, just…I need blood from everyone I don’t want Deirdre to attack.”

“…Including me?” he asked, equally mystified.

“Yeah…you’re my friend, right?” Renard stared. “…Well, this is awkward.”

“I…sorry, just…I didn’t expect that,” he said honestly, clearing his throat. “I…suppose, when not on the clock and I’m your boss…yes.”

“Well don’t get all touchy feely on me,” she said, smiling dryly.

Renard smiled dryly back and took the paper. “So, this will protect me from her?”

“It goes in a thing Henrietta is making me. The last one I need for now, in the immediate area, is Wu.”

“Alright…Sloane, I have a question for you,” He said, pulling out a small pen knife and pricking his finger as if it was natural. He didn’t react when the paper wrote out his name in his blood either. “If say you thought perhaps someone you once trusted was working with your worst enemy…what would you do?”

“…Well, in the past, it’d be confront them and beat the shit out of them if it’s true, then go from there. Now…I don’t know. Cause, you know…several people I once trusted were working with one of my worst enemies recently. And it puts a lot of stuff in perspective.”

“Ah…sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that up…”

“It’s okay. I guess confirm it and then figure out if there’s a way to use it, depending on how bad it is. Maybe he has information you’d like. If not, cut ties. Then cut throats if he fights back.”

Renard hummed, wrapping his finger in a band aid he also got from his desk before handing the tab to her. “I’ll think on it.”

“Someone double dealing you?” Sloane asked, frowning as she put the tab with the others in a small envelope.

“Possibly. As you said, I should research it more first. I don’t want to hurt him if I don’t have to.”

She nodded. “Well…let us know if you need help.”

He hesitated but nodded.

As Sloane walked back out just in time to see Wu, Nick and Hank walk in.

“Sloane!” Wu sighed, walking over. “Glad to see you’re okay. The guys told me what’s going on.”

“Then they also told you I need something from you?” She said, holding up a tab.

“Ah…right,” he sighed, taking it. “Oh, I found something in the case they’re working on.” He motioned for her to follow and Hank and Nick smiled when they saw her.

“Hey, you okay to be here?”

“I made sure Monroe and Rosalee were secure in the shop. What’s up?”

“Well, first, I found something on our suspect’s mother. We found her picture at her apartment, but Bella wasn’t there.” He showed her the picture and Sloane frowned.

“Her face…” The woman looked like she’d have been very beautiful, except for the huge burn mark on her face.

“Yeah, we’re not sure what caused that…”

“A branding iron.”

“What?”

Sloane turned the photo and pointed. “There’s this…wavy design in it. That’s a branding iron, I’m sure, but a generic one. This would be used for torture…”

“Yikes,” Wu said.

“Well, not sure who did that to her then…but I found a history on the mom, Cindy,” Hank said.

“Criminal?” Nick asked, standing to go look.

“No, opposite,” he sighed. “Police report from 1989. Cindy Turner was victim of a rape.”

“That's her? No scarring,” Nick said, looking at the picture of a young woman. She was beautiful but looked like she’d been crying and he frowned deeply.

“Well, the picture was taken 24 years ago. Same night she was attacked.” Sloane felt the tight, angry feeling in her chest thinking about it. “"Suspect William Ashford attacked victim Cindy Turner outside Spackle's Bar and Grill but died at the scene." No charges filed against Turner.”

“Cause of death?”

“He died the same way our vics died. But Ashford's death was ruled accidental. Cause of death: severe allergic reaction to something unknown. They didn’t have the equipment we do today to search for rare toxins and the like quickly.”

“So, they must be the same,” Sloane said. “This…this was how Bella was conceived,” Sloane said quietly. The date matched up with her current age. “I don’t know how he stayed alive long enough but…”

“God,” Nick said, shaking his head. His phone rang then, and he quickly answered, putting it on speaker but low enough only they should hopefully year. “Rosalee?”

“I think we've got something that might work, but no guarantees. It's never been tried. What I think we have to do is depolarize her membranes by either using a tetrodotoxin or a saxitoxin, both of which should have antagonistic effects to the poison she secretes. This would allow us to block her from creating the poison in the first place.”

“I understood none of that,” Wu muttered. Sloane shrugged, only getting every third word or so.

“Any side effects?” Nick asked.

“Yeah, these are some hardcore toxins we're dealing with here,” Monroe said. “I can't imagine there wouldn't be...And probably not very good ones. But it's better than her being out there killing people.”

“It's not as if she has a choice here,” she sighed.

Nick nodded. “Do it.”

“We’ll track her down and bring her in,” Sloane said.

“Oh, you’re there?” Rosalee asked.

“Yeah, but I haven’t found any sign of Dierdre on the way over.”

“Maybe she left?” Monroe asked hopefully.

“Not likely. I want to go with Nick and Hank, in case she follows them again. I don’t want someone else dead on a case because of her. But if anything happens, you call me.”

“We will,” Rosalee agreed. “See you soon.” Nick hanged up and Wu waved a folder.

“Sooner than you think, maybe. Got a DMV on Bella's mom, Cindy Turner. The address on her license is in Gresham. She might go there.”

Nick looked at them and grabbed his jacket. “Let's go.”

“Blood first!” Sloane said, eyeing Wu. He groaned but looked for something sharp.

\-----------------

Cindy Turner’s house was built back from the road on a couple of acres. Lonely. Isolated. A big white island in the fields around it, with a smaller white barn next to it. Pulling up, Sloane looked around intently. She couldn’t see that anyone had followed them, but that didn’t mean much. Nick looked with her, paranoid as well.

When they got up to the house, he knocked on the door. But Hank looked through the window and immediately was on alert. “Hey, forget knocking! There's a woman on the floor, and she's not moving!”

Nick looked through the door and could see her feet in the living room. He pulled back and kicked the door open, breaking some of the glass but they didn’t care as they rushed in.

“Dierdre?” Sloane called. There was no answer and Hank was rushing over to the woman.

“She's got blood in the back of her head…” He reached down to put his fingers to her wrist and breathed out. “All right, she's got a pulse.” Sloane eased back a little. Dierdre would’ve just killed her, so she doubted that was her attacker. The woman, Cindy they realized, groaned and started to wake and try sit up.

“I'm calling an ambulance,” Nick said, pulling out his phone. He nearly fumbled when he heard a scream though and Sloane looked towards the back of the house and the door there.

“Bella!” Cindy said, trying to get up faster. She gasped when she saw Hank.

“It's okay. Police,” he said, pointing at his badge.

Another scream came and she kept trying to stand. “You don't understand! My mother's with her!”

Sloane heard the last distantly as she ran for the door and actually jumped through it, landing in a crouch after dropkicking it off it’s hinges. Nick was close behind as they jumped over the railing of the back porch and rushed for the barn.

Bella was screaming, trying to get into a corner and pull some of the stored items in front of her to protect her from an older woman with white hair holding a red-hot branding iron.

“Do you want to keep on killing?!” she roared.

“No!”

“Do you want to be raped like your mother and me?!”

“No!” She wasn’t answering her, she was trying to plea for her not to hurt her.

“You have to do what we all have to do! It's for your own good!” She moved to try and strike her in the face.

“The hell is wrong with you?!” Sloane shouted. The woman turned, surprised to see her. Sloane gasped when she saw the burn mark on her face, exactly like Cindy’s mark. Had she done that? Was this how they tried to keep men from finding them attractive now? “Police! Get down!”

“No! Get out! I have to do this!”

“Put it down!”

She yelled and then tried to charge her, and Sloane managed to dodge out of the way as she aimed for her chest, the brand hitting a wooden beam. Smoke went up and the squiggle line mark was left in burned into the wood. Sloane then grabbed it two handed, as far from the hot end as she could, and wrenched it out of the old woman’s surprisingly strong grip.

“No! Give it back! It’s the only way!” she shrieked, reaching for her.

Nick rushed in and grabbed the woman, pulling her away from Sloane. “Stop!”

Sloane sighed in relief, looking at the hot iron in disgust and then back at Bella. She was in tears, shaking and looking at her and her grandmother in fear.

“Bella!”

“Mom!”

Cindy rushed in and over to her, hugging her close and Sloane was now surprised. “Thank God…Thank God you’re alright…”

“You think you saved her?” the old woman croaked. “Oh, you haven't saved her from anything.”

Sloane glared a bit but then set the iron down in the doorway and kicked dirt over it while Nick walked over calmly to Bella and her mother. “Well, maybe we have…You need to come with us.”

“It's not her fault. You can't arrest her!” Cindy said, holding her protectively close.

“We know,” Hank said.

“There might be another way…We know someone, someone who specializes in wesen conditions and biology and she thinks she may have a way to…Stop you from woging.”

Bella straightened, looking at them. “I…what?”

“You know?” Cindy asked.

“We know,” Sloane agreed, coming back in. “It’s untested so we’re not sure if it will work or what might happen, but she offered specifically to try so no more guys die because they’re horn dogs.”

“Not how I would’ve phrased it, but yeah,” Nick said. “But we gotta go to their shop.”

“I’m not letting you take her alone,” Cindy said.

“You can come too, but that one is not invited,” Sloane said, pointing to the old woman on the ground who was still looking at them all with a deep glare.

“Mom…I want to see if they can help,” Bella said quietly.

“Bella,” she said, warning on her tongue

“I’m 24, I can decide… I can’t keep doing this…and I don’t want to be burned,” she sobbed. “If they can help, I want it. M-maybe it would work for you too…” She stared at her a moment before Bella gently slipped away from her grip and walked over. “L-lead the way…”

Nick nodded, gesturing for her to follow him gently.

“I’ll be right there,” Sloane called. She looked at Cindy and her mother. “…Need help back to the house?”

“I’m staying here,” the old woman said. “I’m going to be ready for when she comes back, and this doesn’t work!”

Sloane frowned at her and looked at Cindy who just looked haggard. “Fine, stay here mom, in the cold,” she said bitterly. She marched back out and Sloane followed, eyeing the old woman.

“…Your mother…did that to you?”

“…Yes. Just after Bella was born. Said it was the only way to protect me…It’s meant to be a last resort. Honestly though, I think she wanted to do it…”

“Why?”

“She’s resented me a long time…After how I was conceived…and then her mother burning her…” she shook her head with a sigh. “Our whole kind is cursed…”

“…We saw your file.”

“Ha, yeah,” she said with a bitter laugh, wiping at her eyes. “I wanted different for Bella, but…even if it’s with love, it comes with death. Or men try to take it and die…”

“…But you love her?” Sloane asked quietly.

She looked at her and then nodded slowly. “Yes…I was scared I’d be like my mother. She told me once she wished she’d…gotten rid of me but her mother made her go through with the pregnancy. It was hard growing up and I rebelled which led me to be there that night and…” She shuddered. “Even so, she made me go through with it. I thought I’d feel the same but…I loved her the moment I saw her. She’s my baby. Even if she’s half that man’s, she’s half mine too and I was all she had. So, I did my best…” She looked at her, hopeful and sad. “Do you think your friends can really help her?”

“I think so. Don’t know if it’ll be perfect, but the goal is no poison production so…”

She nodded. “Okay…please, go with them though. I just…don’t trust men.”

“I don’t blame you. We’ll send her back soon.”

She nodded and Sloane headed out to the car so they could drive to the shop. She looked relieved Sloane was in the back with her as they drove, but she stayed pretty quiet. When they got there, they went inside, and Sloane looked around. “I’m gonna go take a walk…”

Nick looked back at her. “…Alone?”

“Just to check. I’ll be right in.”

He nodded slowly, walking in with Bella and Hank. Sloane sighed and started walking around the building looking around. “If you’re here, just come out.”

“So, demanding,” Dierdre sighed. Sloane looked up to see her on the fire escape of the next building. “You keep tempting me to just kill them by leaving you know…And you’re running out of time before I do. I was more than generous with five days.”

“I thought you might follow us. A good chance to kill another defenseless person we already took care of.”

She glared mildly but didn’t take the bait. “Is that what you’re doing now?”

“Yeah. They’ve got a suppressant for a Folterseele.” Dierdre paused, quiet and Sloane smirked a little. “Don’t know what that is?”

She glared. “You better not get smug, you little—”

“I’m not little anymore,” she said. “So, I want to talk. Face to face. Somewhere private.”

She gave her a cold look before jumping down, landing perfectly. “Are you trying to distract me from your friends?”

“I’m trying to have a goddamn conversation with you,” Sloane said impatiently. “Something we never actually have done. But I don’t like doing it in an alley.”

Dierdre frowned again and sighed. “You’re sounding like a petulant brat. I thought that stopped ages ago. But fine, follow me.” She started walking and Sloane glanced back at the shop once before following.

\---------------

Dierdre led her a few blocks over to an old abandoned warehouse. They went in and up to the office, where Dierdre had set up camp in front of the large window on the second story. “What, no motel?”

“I’d hoped I wouldn’t be here that long,” she said. “But you were right about one thing…there’s a thriving wesen community here. Took care of a few more today. Schalengecke, hundjager, dickfelig—a nice variety. That Mausehertz I left you, I almost felt sorry for him. But I kept thinking how nice it would be to get a Fuchsbau…and a Blutbad.”

Sloane’s fists tightened but she took a deep breath. “You’re being catty. Here I thought that was beneath you.”

She glared mildly but sighed. “So, you want to talk like adults? Let’s talk like adults. Why the hell are you still here?” she growled.

“Because I’m not going anywhere.”

Dierdre stared and then narrowed her eyes. “Excuse me?”

“I told you before, I’m a grown woman. I can decide what to do with my life. And I’ve decided I like it here. I’ve set up roots and I’m staying. Indefinitely.”

“Why would you do that?” she hissed, angry. “I trained you for almost a decade and this is what you decide to do with your life?”

“Yes. Besides, you’ve seen the amount of activity here. I’m busier than I was traveling, and I’m learning more than I was.”

“Like how to be a wesen lover?”

“That sounds dirtier than it is. I’m friends with them.”

“…You’re not even ashamed,” she said, shocked.

“You didn’t raise me to have shame,” she reminded her.

“You cheeky—” She growled. Then she paused and took a deep breath. “You know what? I shouldn’t be surprised. You were raised by my mother for the first years of your life, of course you’re like this…”

“So were you,” she pointed out.

Dierdre glared more. “I overcame that weak will she tried to impart on me. I didn’t realize how it would influence you.”

“Yeah, well, leaving me with her was your choice,” she said, impatient now.

“There was no choice. I wasn’t being tied down by a child, my own or anyone else’s,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“…On that note, I have one question for you.”

“One?”

“Yeah, though it might lead to others.” She took a breath, preparing herself. These were questions she’d had for years and had always been afraid to ask. “If you didn’t want anything to do with me, why did you even have me? Why didn’t you just terminate me?”

She blinked, not expecting that. “You’re asking why I didn’t abort you?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, holding up and dropping her hands in defeat. “I don’t understand why you even wanted to have me. Was the chance of another Grimm that important? Was it just too much trouble? Just tell me the truth and I’ll never ask again.”

Dierdre looked at her and sighed. She looked less combative and suddenly…tired. This was new. She’d never seen Dierdre tired like this. Tired from a hunt, yes, but this was…emotionally drained? Was that possible? “The truth…fine. There was a time I wanted to be like you and my grandmother. A time I thought maybe I could ease back, settle down.” Sloane looked at her like she’d grown a tail and she smiled. “Hard to believe, I’m sure.”

“A bit,” she said, honestly not believing her. “Considering how you’ve torn me apart since you got here for settling down.”

She scoffed. “I realized it was a stupid wish long ago. But…I won’t deny I had it. Considering it led to you. My proof I tried and failed. And what’s worse…I did love your father when we conceived you. Or thought I did. Then he betrayed me.”

Sloane was surprised even further, reeling a little. This was the most she’d ever really said about her father, and it was surprising to hear she’d loved him. Then the rest caught up to her. “Betrayed you?”

“Yes. But I was already pregnant when I left him and…” Apparently the rest wasn’t a story she needed to hear. Dierdre sighed, rubbing between her eyes—a gesture so much like Oma’s that it almost made Sloane angry. “I had high hopes or you, despite your father. I thought I could just be a single mother, raise you and it would be good. I would feel something. I looked forward to you being born. But when you were, after much pain and strain, my mother was beside herself with joy and I felt like…"This is it? This?”” She laughed a little, gesturing at Sloane. “I felt nothing when I held you. And no feeling ever came. I never felt like a mother, I felt like I was saddled with a whining, crying, _burden_.”

Sloane expected it, but to hear it put so bluntly still made something inside her twist. So different from the loving tone Bella’s mother had used. She didn’t say anything but Dierdre went on as if having a conversation, nonplussed. It was like pulling the lid on an overflowing pot. “So yes, you were a disappointment from the beginning. I suppose it isn't your fault you couldn't fill the void of something missing from my life. I came to terms that nothing would after that. Mother dying hurt of course, but I'd long since grown tired of her preaching at me. Then I had to deal with you, and I figured the least I could do for her is make sure you didn't turn out as weak as she was. I suppose I failed.”

“…Yes. You did. Because Oma was never weak,” Sloane said. The twisting feeling was gone, and it was like instead of being warped it was now straight—no more anxiety. Just anger and resentment. This woman didn’t want to be her mother, she’d always made that clear. So why on earth should she treat her like she was her mother?

“Oh please,” she sighed, rolling her eyes.

“She wasn’t. I read her diaries. Her personal ones. She did more in her life than either of us, and she did it for the right reasons.”

Dierdre sneered. “Right reasons? Damn, you really are starting to sound like her.”

“Better than sounding like you,” Sloane said.

She glared and moved forward but Sloane didn’t even flinch. That gave her pause. “…Did you come across what happened to my father in those diaries?”

She blinked. “…Grandpa Charles committed suicide in the attic. The town knew,” Sloane said.

Dierdre laughed and the sound was much harsher and made Sloane’s skin crawl. “Oh, that’s what they said happened. It was the easiest explanation they had, after dressing the scene. But no. He was killed by a wesen. One my mother tried to help and brought into our home. Strangled him while he tried to protect _me,_ 12 years old asleep in my bed. I had no idea until I found his body. He’d killed the man before dying as well.”

Sloane’s eyes widened. “…I’m so sorry…” she said. It was an open, sincere tone and her expression was the same.

Dierdre gawked at her a moment, surprised, before growling and grabbing the front of her shirt. “Don’t give me your apologies! You weren’t even there!”

“…I’m sorry you had to go through it. I had to watch Oma die protecting me. I understand.”

“No, you don’t! I thought you did, but if so you wouldn’t be making friends with monsters,” she said, her voice returning back to the smooth icy tone she remembered.

“They’re not monsters. I’ve done more to help people with them than I ever did with you.”

“They’re wesen. You should hate them! For everything they’ve taken from us! Taken from others! No good they do will make up for that!”

Sloan broke her hold and pushed her hand back to her. “Holding on to that hate didn’t make me happy.”

“You’re a Grimm! It’s not about being happy, it’s about hunting wesen! I had to beat that into your head and now I have to beat it again!? How stupid are you!?”

“It’s what Oma wanted for me. And for you.” Dierdre glared more and wound her hand back, closed fisted and ready to hit her. But Sloane grabbed it when it came close, digging her fingers in. Dierdre looked at it in confusion as she couldn’t move her hand. “I’m not letting you ruin it for me. _You’re_ going to leave Portland.”

She glared and tried to punch with her other arm, but Sloane grabbed that one too. Rearing back, she then headbutted Dierdre right between the eyes. She yelled, moving back. A small drop of blood came from her nose and she looked at her. “How dare you!”

“How dare I what? Fight back?” Sloane asked, taking off her jacket and dropping it to the floor.

“You think you’re stronger than me?” she asked, sneering. “All you do is prance around, play detective and make friends with animals! You think you can beat me like that?!”

“I don’t know, but I’m willing to find out if you are.”

She stared at her before moving to hit her. Sloane blocked, moving with the blow and spinning away, bringing her elbow down onto Dierdre’s in a way that would snap a normal person’s but just made her yell and move away. She kicked out, trying to get Sloane in the side but she moved back. When she tried to rush her, she hit Sloane in the cheek and smiled, but it faded when she stayed standing and glared back. Then Sloane uppercut her in the jaw, making her stagger. As she did, Sloane kicked her hard to get her on the ground and then tried to bring her foot down on her chest.

Dierdre rolled out the way and jumped up. “Well…you’re stronger than I thought.” She took off her coat and dropped it, showing that she was as well built as Sloane if not even more muscled. “Let’s not hold back then.”

Sloane didn’t quip back, instead getting into a fighting stance with her hands up and her legs ready. Dierdre rushed her, trying to punch her again but Sloane pushed that punch away with her hand, then followed through twisting her body and slamming the but of her palm and Dierdre’s face. Dierdre kneed her in the stomach, but when she tried to get her in the face she forced it away and down with a cross block and brought her hands up to push her away. With the distance that bought her, she kicked out and sent her flying across the room into the table, breaking it. Dierdre looked up with a livid glare—and this was new. Sloane realized she’d never seen Dierdre look like that when they sparred as a teen. She didn’t have time to think too long about that though as she jumped up and rushed her, grabbing her and throwing her to the ground. Sloane shouted but broke the hold and punched her before rolling away and getting up.

Blows were exchanged in rapid fire succession, each landing hits with fists and feet. It went on for longer than most fights Sloane had, but it felt incredibly fast as she had to keep her wits about her. Dierdre was incredibly strong and had lived long enough her Grimm powers had just gotten better with age. Yet, Sloane knew almost every move. Years spent sparring—not trying to do real injury like now but still fighting hard—were coming back to her and she remember the subtle signs of when and where a blow was coming from. Dierdre though seemed to have forgotten. Maybe she didn’t think the knowledge of Sloane’s movements important enough to remember, or maybe Sloane had changed, but she was delivering a lot more damage than she used to when she was young.

When Sloane jumped off the wall and kicked out, Dierdre was surprised. She was barely able to block the one kick aimed at her head, but then the other foot came around and hit her in the stomach, sending her skidding over the old wood floor. Sloane landed elegantly, almost like a dancer, while Dierdre coughed on one knee. “Where…the hell did you learn _that_?!” she growled, wiping at her bloody nose again.

“It’s been 10 years, Dierdre. I’ve been all over the world and I learned a lot more than what you taught me,” Sloane said, already catching her breath. Dierdre was still breathing hard though and Sloane tilted her head as she listened to her. It wasn’t put on; she was getting winded. “…Am…Am I actually stronger than you?” Sloane asked, surprised. This terror, this looming threat, suddenly seemed so human. She’d been thinking that when she talked about her father’s death, how hurt she looked deep in her eyes that had never shown anything before, but now it was clearer. She wasn’t all powerful.

Dierdre looked as though she’d been slapped and glared. “Don’t get full of yourself!” She ran for her and Sloan grabbed her arms and ducked down, using her foot to send Dierdre flying out the window she forgot was behind her. Sloane laid in shock a moment, trying to come to grips that Dierdre was having trouble keeping up with her. Then she realized what she did and got up quickly to look. The only thing she saw was the broken glass on the street two stories down. Dierdre was gone.

Sloane sighed, cursing herself for letting her get away. Tracking her down again would be hard with her on her guard and getting her blood even harder. Craning her neck out to try and see her, something red caught her eye—a blood-soaked shard of glass! A weird thing to be thankful for but she had to let out a breath of relief. Taking out her gloves and an evidence back, she broke it off and put it in the bag for safe keeping. She then grabbed her jacket and went downstairs. If she was hurt, it bought Sloane time and she could hopefully get to Henrietta’s to finish the spell. She grunted and put a hand to her side. _Cracked some ribs again…damn…_

When she got back over to the shop, Nick was outside looking around. When he spotted her, he paled and ran to her. “Sloane! Oh my God, what happened?”

“Found Dierdre,” she said.

“Are you…?” He hesitated, since it was obvious she was hurt. Bruises, a split lip, a brewing black eye were all rough.

She smiled though. “I won…sort of. I threw her out a window two stories up and she got away.”

“She got away from that?” Nick asked, a little shocked.

“Yeah…but she left something behind.” She smirked as she pulled out the bag. “I need to get to Henrietta’s…”

Nick nodded slowly. “Okay…I can take you. I don’t think you want to drive.”

“Thanks,” she sighed, following him towards her car. “What about Bella?”

“She drank the treatment and…well…”

“Did it work?” She asked hopefully, buckling up.

“We’re not sure exactly, but um…she grew scales.”

“…Huh?”

“Scales. All…up and down her face and neck and…” he gestured before starting the car. “It was a shock, but Rosalee thinks it’s a good sign. A side-effect but they’re not producing any kind of toxic secretion so…their safe?”

“…And how does she feel about that?”

“Well, it hurt less than the branding iron but it’s not what she hoped for. She’s a bit worried but we don’t know how to test it…I hope she gets through it though. She’s never been in love and she really wants that…” He looked down, feeling that bit of hopelessness come back thinking about Juliette.

“…Yeah. Hope it works out.”

“Well, gotta be somebody for everybody,” Nick sighed.

They drove in silence for a while till the made it to Henrietta’s house. Sloane got out and grunted at the pain in her side. Nick came to help her walk up to the door. Henrietta opened it and smiled. “Ah…two Grimms at my door now…Oh, you look like you went a few rounds in a rock tumbler though.”

“I feel like it,” she sighed. She pulled out the bag and held it up. “Is this enough of her blood?” she asked hopefully.

She took the bag, holding it up to her porch light. “Hmmm…Yes, this should do. Come in. Follow me.”

Nick helped her inside and then to the back of the house. There was a covered patio at the back with a concrete floor—and at the center was a spell circle. It was a lot of symbols Nick didn’t recognize, spiraling around to the center where a squat iron vase rested also covered in symbols. At the top was a wooden lid latched to the vase with chains that were small but strong looking, and a coin-slot like slit cut into the wood. It was about the size of a large bongo drum.

“You have all your slips?”

Sloane nodded, pulling out the envelope with them.

“Good. Let’s get started then. I need you to sit in the center and hold the vessel in your hands.”

She sighed and untangled herself from Nick, limping over to the center, picking up the vessel and sitting down where it was.

Nick looked at Henrietta, distrust plain on his face. “This will work?”

“Of course. There are dozens of protections spells. This one I thought would work best because you can keep adding names to it. But this first part is a little painful.”

“What?” he snapped.

“It’s okay, Nick. I’m ready for it,” Sloane said, having figured there would probably be something to it.

He looked at her, worried, but sighed. “You’re taking a long rest after this…”

“Sounds good to me,” she chuckled. “Since she won’t be able to hurt you, you can be the one to run her out of town…”

“Wait, this won’t work on you?”

“The spell requires the one wishing to place it as the initial conduit,” Henrietta said, holding up the glass shard in the bag. “They can’t put their name in the vessel, or it will cause a feedback loop that breaks the spell. So, she will still be a possible target.”

“I’m fine with that. I kicked her ass tonight, I’ll do it again,” Sloane sighed.

“That’s the spirit,” she chuckled. She let go of the bag and they both stared in surprise as it hanged in the air. She moved her finger in a pattern and the bag and glass disappeared bit by bit, as if the atoms were being pulled away and scattered. All that was left was a glob of blood about the size of an eyeball. “Hold the vessel up.” Sloane did so and watches as the blood floated over and began filling in the carved symbols around the top. It glowed a bright red as it did. “Alright, this is the hard part…take a deep breath.”

Sloane did so and so did Nick. Leaning down, Henrietta woged and then placed her hands on the edge of the spell circle. It glowed red a moment, then white. Sloane gritted her teeth as it felt like electricity was coursing through her. But she tightened her hold on the vessel. _Protect them…got to protect them…_

Nick watched, feeling useless. But then he heard the front door open and someone moving inside. He didn’t want to interrupt Henrietta’s concentration, so he moved inside. “Hello…?”

“Hello, Nicholas.”

He turned and felt a punch to the jaw that had him seeing stars. But he didn’t go down. Dierdre was there, covered in scratches, a large one bandaged on her thigh. He straightened, blinking the stars away and glared. “What are you doing here?”

“I followed you. Well, I followed Sloane. We had a lovely heart to heart, then we beat each other black and blue. And it’s strange…she got stronger..”

“Maybe you got weaker.”

She glared and tried to strike again, then actually grabbed him when he dodged and threw him across the room. “I have not gotten weaker! But I want to know how she could be this strong now, but so _weak_ …and I think you’re to blame. You and Kelly, always so weak willed…So much potential, _wasted_. And now Sloane is a waste too. She always was, but at least she could be trusted to do what was necessary before now!”

Nick growled and jumped up. He moved to strike her. She dodged but he brought his foot around to step on her instep and she backed up with a hiss, glaring daggers. They traded a few more blows, knocking over the table—which Dierdre then tried to hit him with but splintered on the floor when he dodged back. Nick used one of the legs to hit her and she backed up, looking surprised. “Sloane is not a waste. She’s the only good thing you’ve ever done.”

She growled and rushed him pushing him against the wall and with an arm over his throat, trying to cut of his air, the other locking the hand with the table leg in place. He glared back and then felt the feeling of his heart slowing, his skin turning white. Dierdre faltered for a fraction of a second in confusion and Nick let go of the leg and grabbed her by the throat to throw her across the room. She rolled and then got up, staring at him. “What the hell…?”

Nick took a deep breath and calmed down. “Yeah, we’ve been through some things you can’t really understand…And I honestly feel sorry for you.”

“Excuse you?” she spat, standing.

“You’re alone. Not even your own flesh and blood wants anything to do with you and I don’t blame her. You have no one, and it’s honestly your fault.”

Dierdre glared. “I don’t need anyone else!” She moved to hit him again. But just as she was about to connect she froze. Her eyes widened. “W…what is going on?” She gasped as the freeze was released and she stumbled back. “What…” She looked at him and moved to try and kick him, making him jump, but she froze again. Growling, she pulled a gun from her coat and aimed it at him. He felt a flash of fear, but her finger froze on the trigger. “WHAT IS THIS?!”

“A spell,” Henrietta said, coming into the room.

“You…you’re a Hexenbiest? She’s friends with you now?” Dierdre looked like she was loosing her mind. Nick had always had this image in his head of a heartless, cold woman—and she was, but there was a burn under her. An anger that was boiling over into madness.

“Yes.”

Dierdre pointed the gun at her and tried to fire but froze again. “What did you do to me?!”

“It’s a protection spell, and I took the liberty of putting my name in it too. Sloane has put the name of all her friends and other important people into it, and she can add more. You’re now unable to hurt them. But they can hurt you.”

Dierdre looked like she’d been slapped and growled before rushing past them into the room. But it was empty. The spell circle, vessel and Sloane were gone. She turned, looking manic. “Where is she?!”

“Also, safe,” Henrietta said. “Now…Officer Burkhardt, this woman is trespassing on my property and I believe she is a threat. Would you kindly arrest her?”

Nick’s eyes widened and he nodded, feeling satisfaction roll through him as he reached for his cuffs. “Yes, I would.” Dierdre glared before lifting her gun and firing at the light above them. The sudden darkness disoriented him for just a second, but he saw her run as fast as she could out the door. He followed, gun raised, and fired a couple of shots that missed as she raced to her car. “I’d rethink staying! You have at least six people you can’t hurt ready to take you down when we find you!” Dierdre looked back and the hatred on her face actually gave Nick pause. But she climbed into a large black SUV with Utah plates and drove off before he could aim again. He cursed but sighed and then went back in. “She got away…”

“Not surprising,” Henrietta sighed. “She’s lived this long as a Grimm after all.”

“Where is Sloane?” Nick said.

“Oh, don’t look so suspicious,” Henrietta chuckled. She went back out to the enclosed patio and opened a trunk off to the side. Sloane was asleep inside, clutching the vessel to her. “The spell took a lot out of her. She collapsed and I moved her here as fast as I could when I heard you and that woman fighting.”

Nick sighed in relief. Leaning down, he lifted her out of the chest with a grunt. “I’ll take her home then.”

“If you’re sure. I can put her up for a little while.”

“I am…but thank you. For…this,” Nick said, not quite looking at her.

Henrietta smiled, taking that as a sign bygones were bygones. “You’re welcome…Let me help you to the car then. And give one more gift…”

\--------------------------------

Dierdre made it back to the old warehouse where she’d been camping out. She’d need to find a new place to set up now. A motel was likely the best choice. But that wasn’t what had her breathing deeply. Her leg twinge from the cut there, but it was nothing she hadn’t pushed through before. It hurt less than her pride.

_How…how could she do this? How could she be stronger than me? How could she actually go to a Hexenbiest for help?! And it worked?!_

Roaring, she struck the beam next to her. It splintered just slightly, and she looked at it.

_“Maybe you got weaker.”_

She growled and struck again. She started to continue punching it, her mind racing. _You have strength in numbers, I have strength in myself! You used magic against me! That’s not strength! You think just because you learned some things you’re **stronger than me**_ **?!!** With another blow, the beam broke, splintering

Dierdre panted, shaking out her hand. She knew who all was likely protected now. While she may have a whole city to hunt in around them, there were too many now she couldn’t fight against. And she knew not to push her luck killing in one city for too long. It was why she wanted to push Sloane out and move on. But she’d somehow out maneuvered her. Breathing deeply, she leaned her head against the beam. _Control…control and don’t let your anger stop you from thinking…_

When she was breathing steadily again she straightened. Then she grabbed up what equipment she brought up with her and headed down to her car. _I’ll show you…you’re not the only one who can get creative._

\-----------------------

Nick called Monroe and Rosalee on the way home and let them know what happened. Especially letting them know that the spell worked. Once home, he made sure there were no other traps—the one in the office scared the shit out of him but he’d been standing to the side to be safe—and then brought Sloane inside.

“Mmm…Nick?” she mumbled.

“Hey, yeah. I brought you home,” he said, carrying her to the bedroom. He set her down and she tried to stay up and get her boots off. Nick helped her and she fell back almost immediately across the bed. Chuckling, he got her facing the right way. It was a bit like dealing with a drunk but at least she seemed happy.

“Vessel…?”

“I got it,” he said, setting a hand on it on her bedside table. “It worked. Dierdre couldn’t hurt me.”

She smiled. “Good…hopefully she leaves…since she can’t hurt me through you…”

“Hopefully. Now rest up.”

“Mmm…Oh, but she said she did hurt other wesen,” she said, looking concerned. “She said so, that she hunted…She killed a Maushertz…left me his head by the Spice Shop. I buried it, I didn’t know what else—”

“Hey, hey, shhhh,” he said, gently pushing her back down as she tried to get up. “We’ll find out what she did and do what we can. But she can’t hurt me, Hank, or Wu now. Or Monroe and Rosalee. We’ll get her.” She hummed again, relaxing. He smiled and stroked back her hair. “Go to sleep. I’ll lock up.”

Sloane settled back. “’Kay…love you…” she mumbled.

Nick blinked, surprised, but then smiled. _She’s pretty out of it…_ “Love you too.”

She smiled happily and fell back asleep. Nick made sure her doors and windows were secure, and on the way out pulled Henrietta’s gift. It was a charm shaped like a hand with an eye in the center—a Hamsa she said. The eye was made from black tourmaline and marble, set into the hand sewn hand stuffed with yarrow, cumin, rosemary and salt. Then infused with magic and a drop of Diedre’s blood. She said she threw it in for free. Hanging it up on the door on the inside, she said used a similar spell and Dierdre wouldn’t be able to enter Sloane’s house uninvited for at least a month. It was the only protection she could offer her for now.

Closing and locking the door, he headed back to his car and home. Juliette wasn’t there when he arrived and the good feelings he felt sifted away. Sighing, he laid down on the couch so he wouldn’t see their bed and missing things and closed his own eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm curious, did anyone see Dierdre being Sloane's mom coming? I had been toying with the idea ever since the start if she should be or if her mother should have her own presence, but this felt more...sad but right. We'll be seeing a lot more of her as the next few chapters roll out and she's just going to get more awful, I can promise that.
> 
> I hope everyone is staying safe right now with the virus going around. My job is "essential" so I'm still working, which is both good and bad as far as worrying about all this. But I do have more time to write with nothing else going on ^^;


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